


Ghost Eye for the Jedi

by key_exchange, miles_and_miles



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: AU where Hux lives purely so the authors can prosecute him for war crimes, Crack Treated Seriously, Day drinking, Everyone Is Gay, Finn and Poe get married, Gossip, Happy Ending, M/M, Missing Scene, Multi, Qui-Gon is a Hippie, Semi-Public Sex, Seriousness treated like crack, Unrequited Crush, Unresolved Sexual Tension, a lot of people die but they all become ghosts so it's okay, i guess ghost alcohol is a thing now lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25438699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/key_exchange/pseuds/key_exchange, https://archiveofourown.org/users/miles_and_miles/pseuds/miles_and_miles
Summary: The trials, tribulations, and illicit affairs of all three Star Wars trilogies recounted through the eyes of Yoda and Mace Windu, who like to gossip while tipsy (both before and after their demises)
Relationships: Jessika Pava/Rey, Mace Windu & Yoda, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Poe Dameron & Finn & Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Qui-Gon Jinn & Yoda
Comments: 28
Kudos: 114





	1. Act I

It had been five minutes since the council meeting adjourned, and all the council members had left the room except for Yoda and Mace Windu. They sat in their chairs as the last light of day stained the otherwise abandoned council room orange. Normally, if they stayed late, it was because they got caught up in conversation. Today, however, they sat in befuddled silence.

“Something on your mind, I sense, Master Windu,” Yoda interjected.

Windu took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. “Did something about Kenobi and Skywalker seem _off_ when they were giving their report?”

“Hmm.” Yoda’s response seemed neither to agree nor disagree with him. His expression was inscrutable.

It didn’t add up. Their mission had gone according to plan – better, even, but they wouldn’t look at each other while reporting their success and were devoid of their personalities. (Windu didn't know Skywalker was even capable of keeping those around him from being affronted by his personality.) The whole thing was oddly...stiff. Even as they left the room, it was all business. Windu could feel the tension between them manifesting through the Force the whole time. It was frankly distracting. “Do you think they could have had a falling-out on their mission?”

Yoda looked up at Windu. “A falling-out, you say? Come to that conclusion, how have you?” He looked like he knew more than he was letting on.

“Surely you felt it.”

“Much tension between them there was. Almost acting _too_ professional, they were.”

“Precisely, Master Yoda. It seemed like they were _compensating_ for something.”

Yoda’s knowing expression cracked into a slight smile; it was becoming insufferable. “An argument, this behavior, may have caused. Or, something more _personal_ , perhaps. Hm hm hm.” He laughed under his breath.

Master Windu stared at Yoda for a second, processing the true meaning of his statement. “You can’t possibly be suggesting that two of our best generals’ relationship may have developed into something of an _intimate_ nature.”

“Continue this conversation in my chambers, shall we?” Yoda stood up and gestured to the door.

* * *

They sat on Yoda’s sofa, each with a glass of wine in hand, the volume of their conversation gradually increasing as the volume of liquid in the bottle rapidly decreased. The evidence of the night’s first wine bottle had toppled over and rolled under the sofa, but that was a problem for future them.

“You are so full of it. I could see Skywalker doing something dumb like that, but Master Kenobi would never!” Windu swirled the wine around in his glass before downing the remainder of it.

“Say that, you do, but seen the way he looks at Skywalker, have you not?” Yoda giggled while pouring Windu more wine.

It was a little hazy through the wine, but Windu knew what Yoda was talking about. Master Kenobi’s relationship with Skywalker had changed dramatically since Skywalker took the Jedi Trials. With the power dynamic of Master and Padawan removed, they were able to act more freely around each other, and it seemed like they had grown closer. Windu recalled some interactions between them that he’d witnessed. The way Obi-Wan’s eyes lit up when Anakin walked into the room. The lingering hands on each other’s shoulders. _Oh no..._ “I won’t deny that, but Kenobi cares about the rules too much. He wouldn’t just go and violate the Jedi Code.”

“Against the Jedi Code, a physical relationship, technically, is not. Forbidden, only attachment is. High, emotions run, in times of war. Love each other, they clearly do. Natural to take comfort in one another, it is. Something to relieve stress, they do need.” Yoda began to slip off the sofa, but caught himself.

“Perhaps, but I think there’s something more complicated going on. There were layers to that tension that I can’t explain.”

“Valuable, your skepticism is, but wrong, you sometimes are.”

“Ten credits say I’m right.” Windu said without missing a beat.

“A deal, you have.”

* * *

Starting the following day, they began casually spying on Anakin and Obi-Wan. They started taking different, and, frankly, sometimes ridiculous routes to the places they were going when they knew Anakin and Obi-Wan were back from missions in hopes of seeing glimpses of them. But this didn’t lead to anything. They rarely managed to catch Anakin and Obi-Wan alone, and when they did, their observation was blatantly obvious. All the while, they had to suffer through painfully awkward mission reports, no closer to figuring out what was going on between those two.

Wondering why they were still doing this, Master Yoda and Master Windu took the long way around to the meditation gardens that “just happened” to pass by Obi-Wan’s living quarters. No longer hopeful of getting answers through half-assed espionage, they almost didn’t notice that the door was left partially open. They stopped in their tracks and snuck up to the edge of the door, crouching. Yoda peeked his head around the edge of the door, followed by Windu, whose head was just above Yoda’s. At first, all they saw was the cloak on the floor right in front of them. Then the other cloak behind it. And the belts behind that. Then finally, the trail of discarded tabards, boots, and miscellaneous other clothes leading up to Obi-Wan, who had Anakin pinned to the wall. 

Obi-Wan and Anakin were stripped down to just their trousers, and by the look of it, they wouldn’t have those on for much longer. Anakin threw his head back and let out a small whimper as Obi-Wan kissed the crook of his neck. He pulled Obi-Wan in and kissed him deeply, gripping the back of his head, and then running his hands down Obi-Wan’s back.

At the sight of this, Mace Windu tried to shield Yoda’s eyes, but Yoda smacked his hand out of the way to keep watching. _Yoda was right_ , Windu thought, side-eyeing him. He couldn’t quite see Yoda’s face, but he just _knew_ he was wearing a smug expression, which only rubbed salt in the wound. Out of everything that was bombarding his mind, the thing that oddly surprised him the most was seeing Anakin’s prosthetic. Windu had never seen him without that glove on – it made him seem significantly more naked than he was. The engineering of it was very impressive, allowing for full mobility and strength. Knowing this technology existed made the concept of losing a limb seem almost seem like a nonissue. _Almost._

Obi-Wan finally pulled away from the kiss and gazed at Anakin. Their faces were filled with growing desperation as their breathing got heavier. They stared at each other for a moment, communicating something possibly through the Force, or perhaps just with their eyes. Anakin nodded and slowly dropped to his knees, maintaining eye contact with Obi-Wan, and then started unfastening his trousers. 

In unison, Yoda and Windu darted back around the corner and briskly resumed their path to the meditation gardens. Mace Windu pulled ten credits out of his sleeve and handed them to Yoda, completely expressionless. They walked in complete silence for the rest of their journey.

* * *

It wasn’t that Windu was _bitter_ about losing the bet; it was just that, when he’d detected something off about Anakin and Obi-Wan, he hadn’t figured it would be... _that_. It wasn’t like he was a prude, but Yoda’s notion that the little tableau they’d witnessed could be waved away as stress relief seemed overly optimistic. Windu couldn’t share Yoda’s laissez-faire stance even if he wanted to. He’d spent a long time honing his craft, unraveling its mysteries, honoring its laws – forgive him if he wasn’t willing to do a complete about-face on his lifelong understanding of attachment and its dangers overnight. 

Okay, so maybe he was a little bitter.

It wasn’t like his worries were baseless _._ Mace Windu was not a spring chicken. He’d traveled from one end of the galaxy to the other. He’d served the Republic as a diplomat, a warrior, and, on one memorable occasion, bait to literally lure in the organizers of an illegal deep-sea fishing operation (he didn’t talk about that particular week spent on Kamino). Windu had seen some things – including casual sex. He was fairly sure that the utter devotion he’d seen written all over Anakin’s face had exceeded the bounds of that particular term. 

Windu had been holding out for an appropriate moment to raise the issue in private, but when he bumped into Yoda in a particularly obscure aisle of the archives, he figured he’d better address it once and for all. “I’m concerned, Master Yoda,” he said in an undertone, “about Master Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker.”

“Gotten less awkward lately, their reports have,” Yoda stated breezily. He was taking a very long time to rotate his floating chair to face Windu, and, frankly, it seemed deliberate. 

“I’m getting the sense that there might be more to it than we thought. You know I wouldn’t bring it up if we didn’t have reason to be concerned.” 

“Very judicious, you are,” said Yoda, sounding a little bored. 

“Skywalker has had trouble keeping his emotions in check since day one. The kid is doing his best, but I’m worried about what might happen if he starts something he won’t be able to finish.” 

Just as Yoda began to formulate a response, a loud **_crash_ ** issued from several aisles down. Windu immediately thought of the time several years ago when one of the apprentices had accidentally upended one of the archive’s stone busts in an attempt to show off to his friends. _Why is someone in this building always acting like the galaxy’s biggest laser brain?_ Windu thought exasperatedly. 

“We’d better go check that out,” Windu said.

According to popular opinion, Mace Windu was pretty much unflappable. This was, generally speaking, true. However, the sight that greeted them two aisles down was enough to give anyone high blood pressure. 

“Well, kriffed, I’ll be,” muttered Yoda. 

It took a minute to process exactly what Windu was seeing. Three gleaming holojournals lay scattered on the marble floor, a state of affairs that would have earned everyone on the premises a less-than-gentle talking-to from Jocasta Nu. This was, however, far from the most distressing element of the scene before them. 

Anakin Skywalker – why was it _always_ Skywalker? Windu had literally never known someone who caused so many problems on a day-to-day basis – was spread-eagled against the shelf behind him, his head tilted back so that Obi-Wan, who was turning out to be several times more sexually active than Windu ever would’ve suspected, could trail kisses down his throat, all the while pinning his left arm against the stacks. This was all very well, although Windu was a bit scandalized that they’d gambled on such a public venue, but on the other side of Anakin was–

“Is that–” 

“Unfortunately.” 

On Anakin’s other side, one elegant hand wound through his unkempt hair and the other restraining his right arm, was Padmé Amidala – who also, now that Windu was being forced to think about it, seemed to have a propensity for finding herself in real predicaments. Though her long hair fell informally down around her shoulders, Padmé was clearly in charge of the situation. Whispered pleas tumbled from Anakin’s red-bitten lips as a wicked smile spread across Padmé’s angelic face, and she proceeded to tear Skywalker’s customary glove off with her teeth. 

This was all a little much for Mace Windu, who silently and immediately turned on his heel and proceeded out of the library. 

“A drink, you need,” said Yoda, still hovering beside him. Wordlessly, Windu held out his hand. Yoda, in equal silence, returned the ten credits, shaking his head slowly. 

* * *

“We’re going to have to address this,” said Windu. “It would be one thing if it were just Skywalker and Kenobi, but if Senator Amidala is part of this, it could become a major ethical issue. Not to mention a liability to the entire Jedi Order’s reputation.” He sipped his glass of red wine before raising the point that had really been gnawing at his nerves. “How did she even get into the archives? They’re forbidden to anyone outside of the Jedi Order...which further proves that the three of them are prepared to flout rules and regulations for their– to– for whatever _that_ was,” he concluded somewhat weakly. 

“I agree, Master Windu,” said Yoda. “Out of hand, this may get. However...our most valuable generals, Kenobi and Skywalker are. A time of war, this is. Be pragmatic, we must.” 

“Are you really willing to compromise the Jedi Code for the sake of pragmatism?” 

“Right, you are, in your concern,” said Yoda, “but much to learn, you still have.” 

“Understood.” Windu paused for a moment. “But, let’s be realistic – something has to be done. Someone should talk to them before this debacle ends up under formal Council jurisdiction...or, worse, in the public eye.” 

“Enjoy that task, would you?” asked Yoda, looking at Mace innocuously. 

“There is literally nothing in the galaxy I want to do _less_.” 

Yoda paused for a moment, thinking. 

“Hmmm,” he said aloud. 

“Well, that’s not often a good sign,” said Windu. 

“What?” 

“When you ‘ _Hmmmm…_ ’.” 

“A friend, I have. Shed some clarity on this matter, perhaps he could,” Yoda finally announced. 

“Who?” 

* * *

“Well, good _gracious_ ,” said the translucent spectre of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, who had materialized in Yoda’s living quarters. Having shuffled off of this mortal coil seemed to suit him; he was trying a new hairstyle which appeared to include some kind of curling iron of the great beyond. “I can’t say I expected that _that_ would be your distressing news.” 

“Right, I fear Master Windu was. Troubling, this has become.” 

“I know both Kenobi and Skywalker. They almost always mean the best. Anakin may be a bit of a menace when he gets going, but I’ve never met someone with better intentions.” 

“Not everything, intentions are,” said Yoda grimly. 

“You’re right, you’re right. I can certainly see why you’re worried.” Qui-Gon sighed, took a minute to collect his thoughts, then continued. “You know I’ve never been the most orthodox sort.” 

“Know this well, I do. Impressive, I find it, if bamboozling.” 

“Well, I wonder if this isn’t just something Anakin needs to get out of his system. He’s always had issues with control; controlling his own powers, feeling out of control in relation to the world around him.” 

Yoda looked askance at his old friend. 

“It sounds like Obi-Wan and Padmé are providing a safe environment for Anakin to learn how to...lose control. He needs to develop coping mechanisms. This arrangement is unconventional, yes, but perhaps it’s the best way for him to express and relate to that part of himself.” 

“Weird, you have always been,” grumbled Yoda. 

“As long as they don’t do it in public. Obi-Wan, at least, should know better. If you see anything like that again, come straight to me. I’ll appear out of thin air and scare the daylights out of all three of them.” 

“Appreciate your collaboration, I always do,” said Yoda. 

“And I yours, Master Yoda,” said Qui-Gon, flickering out of sight. 

* * *

It would be an understatement to say the Republic was in a dire situation. It seemed like the war would never end, or, worse, that its only clear end would be in defeat... All the while, there was still a Sith Lord on the loose, and the Chancellor’s executive powers were feeling more and more contradictory to the doctrines of democracy. 

Despite this, or perhaps because of this, Yoda and Mace Windu occasionally took time out of their afternoon to have tea together in Yoda’s chambers. Not even the best of the Jedi Masters, such as themselves, were fully immune to the fatigue of incessant war and chaos. It was nice to unwind a little bit every now and then – to take a break from everything and briefly live in a fantasy where there was peace in the galaxy. Sometimes they wondered what everyone used to talk about before the war began, but they were good about avoiding it in conversation – or at least not mentioning it explicitly. Even when Windu couldn’t think of anything to talk about except the war, Yoda always found a way to steer the conversation in a direction that would bring them both a little peace. Today, however, was different. Windu was running out of things to talk about, and Yoda was not giving him the sorts of responses that could maintain a conversation. 

“So...” Windu took a moment to sit up straighter at Yoda’s table, “How are the younglings coming along in their training, Master Yoda?”

Yoda looked up from the cup of tea he had been vacantly examining. “Much improvement, the younglings have made. Talented Jedi, they will all become.”

“That is very good to hear, Master Yoda.”

There was clearly something on Yoda’s mind, but Windu didn’t want to ask. If it wasn’t being talked about now, he assumed he would hear about it in their next council meeting. Usually, though, Yoda did not seem this outwardly concerned about something the Council would be formally discussing in detail soon. Yoda stood up on his chair so he could reach the teapot and topped off his cup. “More tea, Master Windu?” he said apathetically. 

“Yes, thank you, Master Yoda.”

They slowly sipped their tea, staring aimlessly at the wall, trying to occupy the time until one of them filled the silence. After an excruciating pause, Yoda sighed. “Heard the news from the Senate, have you?”

“What news in particular?” Windu asked, picking up his cup to take another sip.

“Pregnant, Senator Amidala is.” 

Windu spat his tea back into his cup. “Excuse me?!”

“Troubling, it is.”

“And the father?” He put his elbows on the table and leaned in.

“To the public, unknown.”

“But we have a pretty good idea who it is.” 

“A fifty-fifty chance of knowing, we have.”

Master Windu put his face in his hands. He felt thoroughly deflated. It took some time and a lot of meditation, but he had finally accepted that Anakin’s relationship with Master Kenobi and Senator Amidala might not be intrinsically problematic. _How could they have been so foolish as to not use protection?_ “This could jeopardize everything.” 

“Agree with that, I do. But hasty action, we must not take.” Yoda shook his head.

“As much as it pains me, I concur. We can’t afford a scandal or to lose Skywalker and Master Kenobi.” Normally, he would insist they take disciplinary action, but now it was more important than ever that those two stayed in their ranks. Whether Windu liked it or not, Anakin was undeniably strong with the Force, and they needed him in order to win the war. Moreover, he didn’t want to risk word getting out. The last thing this political climate needed was the reputation of a senator smeared in a scandal involving two Jedi. "We need to do something, but I don't think we should confront them directly.”

"That we know of their affair, devastating, it may be. Guilt and shame, their downfall, might bring. Confront them, we must, but the time is not now. Now, ending the war, our priority must be." 

"Yes, hopefully that will be done before the child is born. The three of them are going to have some serious life changes up ahead, and it would be preferable if they weren't facing them in the middle of this conflict. Skywalker, Kenobi, or both of them may need to leave the Jedi Order, and I don't want their decision to stay or leave to be clouded by a sense of obligation to win the war." Windu didn’t know if he truly believed that the war would be over that soon, but he didn’t want to think through the full ramifications of what would happen otherwise.

"Agree with you more, I could not. Advise Skywalker, I will, though reveal what I know, I will not. Support, he needs, if he is to bring balance to the Force." Yoda hopped off his chair and shuffled over to a little cabinet. After some rustling and clanking of glass, he reemerged with a bottle of some mysterious liquor. "This conversation, tonight we should resume. Something stronger," he gestured to Windu with the bottle, "shall we drink?"

"I think that's a good idea."

Yoda placed the bottle on the table and gave it a little pat before beginning to clear the teapot and cups from the table. Windu helped him clear the table and then they headed out to resume their daily duties. As Windu left Yoda's chambers, he felt more stressed than he had when he entered. And yet, just knowing that he and Master Yoda were going to formulate a plan later made him feel infinitely better about the state of things than he had a mere 5 minutes ago. He wasn't going to get ahead of himself, but there was a small part of him that thought maybe, just maybe, this would end up okay.

* * *

Everything went dark. Well, not dark per se. Mace Windu couldn’t really describe what he was experiencing – it was like he didn’t exist, and yet he existed everywhere. He looked down and saw his hand was there...but it was see-through.

“Master Windu?” 

The voice was familiar, but it seemed like forever since he had heard it. _It couldn’t be._ He felt a shift in the energy and the spectre of Qui-Gon Jinn emerged before him. “Master Qui-Gon.” He looked the same as the last time he saw him, except slightly different. 

“It’s good to see you, Master Windu. Although I hoped we wouldn’t meet like this so soon.” In life, Qui-Gon had always been what one might refer to as “laid back.” But between the sandals and the baggy shirt that was open at the top, that term did not even begin to describe him.

“How did I get here?”

“I sensed your presence in the Force and helped you over. What happened to you?” 

Though breathing was no longer required where they were, Master Windu took a deep breath and clenched his fist.

* * *

It seemed like only seconds ago Skywalker was informing Master Windu that Chancellor Palpatine was the Sith Lord they had been looking for. The Jedi’s worst fears had been realized, so Windu acted fast to bring the Chancellor to justice. 

Soon, he was the only Jedi in the room to defeat the Sith Lord...and then Skywalker burst through the door. _I told him to stay behind._ But he couldn’t be mad at Anakin for disobeying his orders. He was barely able to fend off Chancellor Palpatine, and he knew he couldn’t be taken alive. Then, despite years of blatantly disregarding the rules, Skywalker began preaching to him about how the Chancellor needed to stand trial. 

“It’s not the Jedi way,” he said.

 _Not the Jedi way?_ _What do you know of the Jedi way?_ Anakin had fucked his former Master in the middle of the archives, for Force’s sake. Windu had to make a decision quickly. He had a rapidly disappearing opportunity to prevent further calamity and Skywalker was not helping him at all. He raised his lightsaber to strike down the Sith Lord, and Anakin did the unthinkable.

Windu hadn’t fully processed that his hand had been severed before he flew out the window. “ _SON OF A BANTHA!_ ” 

* * *

“And that’s when you found me.” Windu sighed after catching Qui-Gon up to speed.

“Damn.” He furrowed his brow and stroked his beard. “Maybe that wasn’t a safe enough environment for him to lose control in after all...” He trailed off.

Windu had heard words eerily similar to those when discussing what to do about the archives incident. His eyes widened. “Have you been talking to Yoda?” 

“Well, yes. I’m now thinking that might not have been the best advice I’ve ever given.”

 _That sneaky little…_ “Did he tell you Senator Amidala is pregnant?” Windu was getting a little fed up with Qui-Gon’s nonchalant attitude.

“Unfortunately, yes. I thought they would have been smart enough to use protection… Master Yoda should have brought me in to intervene.” With this, his breezy exterior began to crumble away. “I told him you two didn’t have to face this alone. I _was_ the one who insisted on training Anakin to be a Jedi.”

“You did what you thought was right. As did the rest of us.” He put his hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder, which was surprisingly corporeal. It was a poignant moment – being reunited with someone who felt the same grief as he did. The moment fell short, however, when they experienced a deep rumbling in the Force, and presences started popping up all around them. They were frozen in shock as an uncountable number of presences flooded the space around them.

“Master Windu?” 

“Yes, Master Qui-Gon?”

“Why are there so many people in my home?”


	2. Act II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As things get more chaotic in the galaxy, the ghost party grows. Meanwhile, Luke is a gay disaster.

From a place beyond mortal reckoning, a soft, minutely warped melody wafted through the universe’s vast ether...The aesthetic was ineffable, but could be loosely described by a mortal as a lo-fi remix of the Cantina Band...

In a pair of chairs laid out on the lawn of the afterlife sat the mostly incorporeal forms of Qui-Gon Jinn and Mace Windu. 

“ _This_ is why I invented ghost alcohol,” said Jinn, gesturing broadly at the vast expanse before them. “The eternal is far preferable when one has access to various levels of consciousness, don’t you think?” 

“Weirdo,” Windu deadpanned, though he was appreciatively sipping his own mysteriously constructed glass of ghost merlot. 

Windu felt it before he saw it -- an atmospheric change so abrupt that it prematurely induced the headache he’d had scheduled for tomorrow. A third presence entered their space, projecting intense worry. Qui-Gon abruptly rose to his feet, letting the macrame he’d been weaving fall from his lap and onto the ground. 

“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked, trying to sober up as Master Kenobi flickered into being before them. 

They stared at each other in complete silence other than the faint breeze of music filling the void around them. Obi-Wan slowly shook his head. “I honestly don’t know what I expected.”

* * *

“Everything in the galaxy is an unbelievable mess,” Obi-Wan concluded, taking a long pull of ghost merlot (ghostlot?) directly from the bottle. He’d spent the last fifteen minutes catching Qui-Gon and Windu up on the sorry events that had befallen the galaxy since Anakin went and lobbed Windu out of an upper-story window. 

“It does seem I rather stuck you all with a temperamental, uncontrollably powerful prophet figure and then died before I could address the situation at all,” Qui-Gon noted.

“It’s not your fault,” said Obi-Wan, with a heavy sigh. “Anakin -- Darth Vader -- made his choices, and now he’s dead.” 

“Technically, he’s alive,” Windu pointed out. 

“Well, he’s dead to me,” said Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon and Windu made concerned eye contact behind his back. 

The last twenty years had not been easy on Obi-Wan: he looked like he’d spent the entire time aging at twice the normal human rate. His years of isolation on Tatooine were carved into his skin, aged before its time by the desert world’s relentless suns. Obi-Wan didn’t know that either of them knew how much he’d lost in the fall of the Republic -- not only the entire Jedi Order, but his two closest friends.... who were also his lovers... which opened a whole other can of worms. 

_~Should we tell him that we know about the affair?_ Windu communicated to Qui-Gon, using the Force. 

_~You never told him you knew about the affair? I told him I knew years ago. We unpacked it in detail...maybe more detail than I ever wanted to know, actually_ , Qui-Gon conveyed from across the room, wiggling his brows slightly. 

Windu barely kept from rolling his eyes: of course Qui-Gon hadn’t thought twice about striking up a conversation about sex, love, and scandal with his former student. That was just Qui-Gon being Qui-Gon: he’d been almost as transparent in life as he now quite literally was in death. 

“...I hate to think what would’ve happened if they hadn’t been able to destroy the Death Star,” Obi-Wan said. Windu made a conscious effort to tear himself away from worrying about the problems of the past. “Luckily for the galaxy, Luke is one of the most Force-sensitive lifeforms I’ve ever encountered.” 

“He’s twenty years old and barely trained,” Windu said, brow furrowed. “It was a gamble taking on Anakin when he was nine, and look how that turned out. Jedi must be trained from infancy.” 

“Well, this isn’t what you’d call a normal situation,” Qui-Gon said.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Obi-Wan said, heaving a heavy sigh and using his mind to cave in the bottom of the wine bottle so he could, in effect, shotgun it. 

* * *

“I’m worried about Luke,” said Windu. “Every time I’ve checked in on the boy for the last several weeks, he’s been staring listlessly out the window into the depths of space. And then today I caught him writing poetry.” 

“ _Poetry_ ?” said Obi-Wan, startled. “I’ve never seen _that_ from him before.” 

Qui-Gon looked up from his current project -- cobbling together some kind of inter-realm bong -- and raised his eyebrows. “What’s wrong? Are his friends alright? Are they communicating clearly, empathetically, and with purpose?” 

“You read one relationship book and you think you’re an expert,” grumbled Windu. Qui-Gon had picked up a nasty habit of acting like whoever the space equivalent of Dr. Phil is.

“I give great advice!” said Qui-Gon, not seeming to realize that his advice-giving record was, indeed, fairly horrendous. 

Windu sighed. “This is probably about Obi-Wan’s death, right? I mean, you did pop your clogs pretty suddenly…” 

“...And right after the Empire took out the boy’s entire known family,” acknowledged Qui-Gon.

“I don’t know...somehow, I don’t think it’s that,” said Obi-Wan. “Let’s check it out.” 

* * *

The three ghosts appeared aboard the Millennium Falcon, hidden from Luke’s view. The boy did look a bit pale and wan, and he was sporting a slightly maniacal faraway gaze that seemed to say “come to my slam poetry reading tomorrow night!” 

Suddenly, Luke’s body language did a complete one-eighty. His slumped shoulders lifted, his upper body taking on the air of a domestic bird performing a complex mating dance. The thousand-yard stare vanished from his eyes, which became keen and bright. He actually physically straightened his bangs. 

“What--” started Windu. Before he could finish his sentence, a tall figure swaggered onto the Falcon’s bridge from behind the ghosts. 

“Who’s that?” asked Qui-Gon, raising a single eyebrow. 

“His name’s Han Solo,” Obi-Wan explained. “He’s...well, a bit of a criminal, really, but he helped us escape from Tatooine. He claims to be all about the money, but I suspect he’s purer of heart than he lets on.” 

“Either way, he’s a hottie with a body,” observed Qui-Gon tranquilly.

They watched as Han reached up for a wrench stored on a shelf a little above his head. 

“Here, let me get that for you,” said Luke.

He fixed his eyes determinedly on the wrench. _Oh, no,_ thought Windu, _this is not going to go well._ Indeed, no sooner had Luke screwed up his face with resolve than the object zoomed across the room at utterly uncontrollable speed. It would’ve knocked him squarely upside the head if he hadn’t ducked at the last possible moment. Instead, it crashed into the wall behind him, leaving a dent in the already grungy-looking metal. For a moment, Han bore more than a passing resemblance to a tusk cat in both body and soul. 

“You kidding me?” he said. 

“Oh, golly -- Han, I’m sorry,” Luke stammered, flushing. 

_~Golly_? Windu communicated to the other two, both of whom were barely muffling their mirth. As Han stomped grumpily out of the room, presumably to find some other tool to fix the damage Luke had done, the boy literally slumped to the ground in rosy-cheeked shame. He rested his head heavily in his hands. 

“Whyyyyyyyy,” Luke quietly moaned unto himself, totally unaware that three dead Jedi Masters were observing his plight. 

“Oh, I see what’s going on here,” said Qui-Gon from behind Windu. “This isn’t about grief. Our boy’s got a case of unrequited love.” 

* * *

“Any word on Luke and that Han Solo?” asked Qui-Gon, still tinkering with his prototype Afterlife Bong. 

Qui-Gon rarely just said “Han Solo” -- he more often called the man in question “that Han Solo” or “the smuggler.” For all Qui-Gon’s open-mindedness, he’d developed a strong protective streak when it came to Luke. Maybe the boy reminded him of Anakin, maybe his innocent naivete drew sympathy, or maybe Qui-Gon was just a sucker for romance-- either way, the old Jedi Master had taken Luke’s part so wholeheartedly that he regarded Han through the lens of a suspicious father judging his kid’s sub-par fiance. 

“Seems like they mostly argue,” said Windu. 

“To be fair, it’s companionable arguing,” chimed Obi-Wan, who was trying not to become party to any speculation on Luke’s love life. As Luke’s teacher, Obi-Wan felt like it would be weird -- rather rich coming from the very man who had regaled Qui-Gon with the details of his ill-fated throuple, but, Windu supposed, live (or die) and learn. 

As much as the ghosts would’ve liked to kick their heels up and relax after Luke destroyed the Empire’s planet-crushing superweapon, it turned out that he was almost as disaster-prone as Anakin had been. Just last week they’d had to tag-team a life-saving operation, psychically nudging Luke’s friends into continuing to look for the boy after he’d disappeared in a blizzard on Hoth. Although it wasn’t like they got anything even remotely resembling thanks for their help -- throughout his several days of recovery from what must’ve been a nasty case of hypothermia, Luke had done nothing but think about the fact that it had been Han who’d rescued him. Windu had watched him gush about it to some poor Rebel medic for roughly an hour and a half. While Luke’s skill with the Force was still iffy, the same couldn’t be said when it came to laying it on thick about his aching heart: Windu had never encountered someone so adept at pining. In a classic move, Luke had stated in self-consciously responsible tones that, for the sake of clear communication amongst the Rebel fighters, he wasn’t going to spill who he had feelings for. He’d then proceeded to mention at least fifteen extremely specific details that could only have referred to Han. The medic, bless their heart, had nodded sympathetically throughout the conversation and had even snuck Luke their dessert ration at the end of the night. Forget Luke and Han -- that medic deserved a damn medal. 

“Speaking of arguing,” said Windu. Sure enough, through the dimensional curtain that separated them from the mortal world, the three Force ghosts could hear yet another squabble taking place aboard the Millennium Falcon. As Han and Leia pecked at each other like a couple of unruly clawbirds, Luke looked increasingly uncomfortable. 

“‘Scruffy-looking nerf herder’...” mused Qui-Gon. “That’s a heavy-duty insult. Wait, what--” 

All three ghosts froze, not quite processing the events taking place before their very eyes. 

“No!” yelled Mace Windu out loud as Leia, Luke’s _twin sister_ , with whom he had shared both a massively traumatic family history and a WOMB, planted a none-too-casual kiss directly on his lips. “Are you kidding me!?”

* * *

“You don’t think it might have been a _useful detail_ for those two to know that they’re TWINS?” exclaimed Windu. Now he was the one drinking merlot directly from the bottle. 

“ Luke wasn’t ready to know the truth about his family,” said Obi-Wan measuredly. “Qui-Gon agrees.” 

“Oh, does he now?” asked Windu, rounding on Qui-Gon. 

“I meant that he didn’t necessarily need to know right away that Vader’s his old man,” Qui-Gon noted, in the middle of French-braiding his hair. “I can’t say I predicted that he’d end up in this kind of situation with Leia. I didn’t even know they were that close.” 

“I did,” admitted Obi-Wan, “but I figured I’d keep it on a need-to-know basis. The more people know about the Skywalkers, the more danger they’ll be in.” 

“Well, clearly, he does _need to know_ ,” said Windu, bringing his palm to his forehead in the galactically recognized signal for Boundless Exasperation, “and someone had better tell him before this gets even weirder.” 

* * *

When Mace Windu decided to accompany Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan in watching Luke’s first day of training with Master Yoda on Dagobah, he didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t _this_ . In all the years he’d known Yoda - through all the bottles of wine they’d obliterated, he’d never seen Master Yoda so… well, the only way to describe it is “completely out of his mind”. Looking down upon the scene, they all witnessed Yoda pretending to not know R2-D2 and repeatedly beating him with a stick. Windu could only imagine what must be going through the droid’s mind -- well, “mind” probably wasn’t the right word… or was it? _Do droids even have minds?_ he thought, staring at the partially corporeal and mostly empty glass of wine he had consumed a _little_ too fast out of stress. “What in Force’s name is he playing at here?” He asked -- not so much to Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan, but to the universe in general.

“I’m not sure,” Qui-Gon answered. “I haven’t seen Master Yoda like this since soon after his exile, when he ate that funky fungus from next to his hut that made him see a wampa seductively dancing in the fog. I probably shouldn’t have suggested he put it in a soup, but it was amusing nonetheless...”

Windu and Obi-Wan turned their heads in unison and stared at Qui-Gon for a solid couple of seconds before returning their attention to Yoda and Luke. Windu had many questions for Qui-Gon, but this was not the time. 

“I knew he wasn’t very excited about the idea of training Luke, and that he much rather would have trained Leia, but I didn’t expect him to try to avoid it -- and much less by acting so… oddly.” Obi-Wan said with a pained expression.

They watched Yoda lead Luke to his hut. The path he took did not make any sense and he continued his eccentric performance the whole time. It was frankly impressive, albeit moderately annoying and highly concerning. Now, Yoda was making Luke cook soup for him. Windu was kind of surprised that the soup didn’t contain any of that fungus he’d have to question Qui-Gon about.

“This is getting absurd. One of us should go down there and say something.” Windu said, massaging his temple to ease the headache he should have had.

“I’m sure Master Yoda has a plan. We just need to let it play out.” Obi-Wan said calmly, although his expression did not seem as convinced.

“I am not so sure about that, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon said, stroking his beard, “But regardless, let’s give him a little more time before we intervene.” 

Qui-Gon had decided to put his hair in a bun that day, and something about that made his breezy attitude just a tad more irritating to Windu. “It seems I have been outvoted,” he said as he sat back to watch this proverbial speeder crash unfold.

In that moment, they felt that Yoda could sense their presences. “I cannot teach him.” Yoda clearly said to them.

“Obi-Wan, get down there _right_ now!” Windu and Qui-Gon yelled in unison.

“The boy has no patience.” Yoda continued towards them.

“He will _learn_ patience.” Obi-Wan hollered down at Yoda, who only frowned at that.

“Good save.” Qui-Gon said to Obi-Wan.

“Much anger in him, like his father.” Yoda replied.

“He kind of has a point there.” Windu interjected.

“You’re not wrong. Uhh...” Obi-Wan looked over at Qui-Gon while trying to quickly come up with a plan. “Was I any different when you taught me?” He shouted down at Yoda.

“If he taught you, what was I doing all those years?” Qui-Gon said to Obi-Wan, silently laughing at himself.

“I haven’t told Luke about you, and Master Yoda technically taught me when I was a youngling.”

“He’s not ready.” Yoda declared.

They watched as Luke finally realized that he had been speaking to Yoda the whole time and it was clear that it could get painful to watch.

“Well, you seem to have this under control, Master Kenobi, so we’ll leave you to it.” Windu said before turning to Qui-Gon, “Now, Master Qui-Gon tell me more about Yoda and the ‘funky’ fungus you mention earlier.” 

“Why of course, Master Windu.” They turned around, and began walking away. “Now that I think about it, that would make an excellent band name.”

“What would?” 

“Yoda and the Funky Fungus.” And with that, they dissipated into the netherworld, leaving Obi-Wan to deal with a Skywalker again.

* * *

After a day of watching Luke, Leia, and Lando draw up plans to rescue Han from Jabba the Hutt, the ghosts found themselves thoroughly impressed by the attention to detail they took. They planned for every possible situation and created backup plans to their backup plans to ensure they could get Han back unharmed. From the way they talked, it was hard to tell which of the three loved him more. 

During the planning session, Leia and Lando had both finalized their respective disguises for the impending rescue operation. Luke opted out of a disguise, yet he spent the greatest amount of time trying to figure out what to wear, even after they had adjourned their meeting.

“Is this strictly necessary?” Windu said to his friends as they watched Luke hold various clothing items up to his chest in the mirror.

“Absolutely not,” Obi-Wan started, “but it seems like making a good impression on Han is important to the boy.”

Windu and Qui-Gon gave each other a knowing look. There was no doubt in their minds that doting on older men and having a flare for the dramatic was genetic, but this was not the time to say anything about it. 

“Do you think we should go down there?” Qui-Gon asked while stretching out his back, despite having no need to do so.

“He’s just picking out clothing. That does not, by any stretch of the imagination, warrant us intervening in his life.” Windu said sternly.

In the past almost-year since Luke confronted Vader, he’d been in a rightfully sullen mood, and this had been reflected in his choice of attire. Everything he wore was darker, sadder, but it was also ill-fitting. The boy grew up on a farm and no one taught him the art of dressing himself, and frankly, he looked like a garbage bin bag. 

They watched as Luke attempted to pair a tattered cloak with a worn out pair of boots that clashed horribly. As inconsequential as it was, the spectacle before them had crossed the line from amusing to lamentable. “Master Kenobi, get down there.” Windu said, putting his hand over his face.

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan said, materializing next to Luke, scaring him half to death.

“BEN?!” Luke screamed.

“Yes, hello, Luke. I’m here to offer some help in rescuing your friend.”

“You are? I-- I’m so grateful, Ben, I’ve been training really hard but I could always use your wisdom. Is there anything in particular I need to work on? Where should we begin--”

“Oh, no, no. You’re doing just fine in your training, Luke. Better than fine, really. You’re doing an excellent job.” Obi-Wan looked like he didn’t know how to broach the subject.

“This is going _wonderfully_.” Windu said to Qui-Gon, sarcastically.

“Then why are you here?” Luke asked. He’d grown up so much in the past few years, but in this moment, he looked like a confused, innocent child.

“Well, it’s just…” Obi-Wan trailed off, calculating his next move, “I have some people I’d like you to meet.” 

“I supposed this is our cue.” Qui-Gon said to Windu, who’s only response was an eye roll before they materialized on either side of Obi-Wan.

“Luke, meet Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Master Mace Windu.” Obi-Wan said, gesturing towards them. 

“Hi, Luke.” Qui-Gon greeted in the chillest voice imaginable. Windu just nodded in Luke’s direction.

“Hello?” Luke responded, nervously looking over to Obi-Wan.

“I served on the Jedi High Council with Master Windu, and I was Master Qui-Gon’s Padawan.” Obi-Wan clarified.

“I thought Master Yoda taught you?” 

“Well, yes, and no, but that’s not important. Let’s focus on why we’re here, which is to talk about your plan to save your _friend_ , Han.”

Windu gave Qui-Gon another knowing look. Qui-Gon just shrugged. 

“But if you’re not here to train me, why are you here? Is there a problem with our plan?” Luke clearly underestimated his skills as a Jedi and overestimated his ability to dress.

“We’re here because we want to know what in Force’s name are you _wearing_.” Windu interjected, unambiguously peeved to have been, yet again, looped into a Skywalker’s bullshit.

“What?” Luke said looking back and forth at the ghosts before him.

“We can tell you really care about your friend…” Obi-Wan trailed off as Luke looked off to the side, sheepishly.

“You’re infatuated with him.” Windu explained, getting right to the point.

Luke turned bright pink at the accusation, but he didn’t say anything to deny it. Windu would have almost found it charming if it weren’t taking up time that could have been used to take down the Empire.

“It’s clear you want to make a good impression,” Qui-Gon said, letting his hair out of a ponytail in a swish that was fully unnecessary, “and we’re here to help you with that.”

“I--” Luke started.

“First thing’s first--” Obi-Wan began.

“Get yourself a new pair of boots--” Windu interjected.

“And make sure they’re nice!” Qui-Gon said, finishing the thought.

After a couple of hours, the four of them were pleased with the outfit they had come up with. It fit in with Luke’s current funeral-chic aesthetic, but it was very reminiscent of the robes Jedi wore back in the day, and most importantly, it fit properly. And yet, somehow the thing that stood out to them the most was the boots. They pulled the look together like nothing else could, and it complimented his new lightsaber extraordinarily well. The ghosts asked Luke if he needed anything else one last time, and then evaporated before him.

“I think that went well.” Windu said.

“Yes. I believe Luke _will_ be able to impress his friend.” Obi-Wan agreed.

“As long as he can see him.” Qui-Gon said, as he put his hair up into a topknot.

“What?” Obi-Wan and Windu said in unison.

“Well, Han has been frozen in darkness for almost a year. It’s possible he could be partially or fully blind for a while afterwards.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell him, Master Qui-Gon?” Windu said, desperately trying to suppress his frustration.

“Oh, I’m sure it will be fine. It won’t necessarily happen.” Qui-Gon said nonchalantly.

At that moment, Windu knew: _That boy is about to get his heart broken…_

* * *

It was all over. 

After some terribly nail-biting moments when Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Yoda (who had finally joined the ghost party), and Mace Windu had been sure that the Rebel Alliance wasn’t going to make it, they’d won the day. The Empire’s second attempt at a Death Star had dissolved into pyrotechnics, the Emperor was dead, and even Han and Leia’s somewhat-inevitable foray into romance couldn’t dampen Luke’s spirits. He wasn’t entirely sure how to process his father’s death, but he could at least be assured that Darth Vader -- Anakin Skywalker -- had died as the hero he was supposed to be, not as the villain he’d become. 

Meanwhile, the ghosts also had no idea how to process Anakin’s death...because it meant that now, they actually had to _deal_ with him…

“I never thought I’d see you again,” Anakin had said to Obi-Wan the minute he’d blinked into being in the Ghost Realm. When he’d looked away from Obi-Wan, though, Anakin looked cowed. Given that he’d been directly culpable in half the group’s untimely demises, surely Skywalker hadn’t been expecting a warm reception. 

“I don’t understand why you’re--” Qui-Gon gestured up and down at Skywalker. He bowed his head, a sorrowful expression on his face. 

“I understand. You don’t know why I’m here, and neither do I. I never expected that I would join the spirits of the Light. I don’t deserve--” 

“--Hot,” Qui-Gon concluded. “If I remember correctly, you looked like a nuna leg that had been left in the fryer for 7 years and stepped on by a rancor. Obi-Wan still looks old! And I mean _really_ old. Look at him! And now you swagger in here looking like the star of some holodrama! Are you kidding me?” 

“Forgive him,” said Windu. “He’s smoked Yoda’s weight in-- oh, I don’t even begin to understand what he created.” 

“Unbelievable, you are,” said Yoda, shaking his head sternly. “The biggest fool in the galaxy, you have been.” 

“Let’s not pile on,” said Qui-Gon mildly. 

“I mean, he did _murder me_ ,” said Windu. 

“And I am genuinely _really sorry_ ,” intoned Anakin. “I made some unforgivable mistakes, and I understand if you don’t want me around. I mean, of course, I’m not totally sure where else there is to go, but it’s got to be a big afterlife, so I’m sure I’ll figure something out-- huh?” 

Obi-Wan pulled Anakin in for a hug. It had probably been decades since anyone showed Anakin any sort of affection, and despite everything he had done to them (well, except Qui-Gon), and how hard it would be to forgive him, the sight warmed their ghostly hearts. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again!” Obi-Wan scolded as he pulled Anakin in tighter before releasing him.

“I promise.” Anakin said, on the verge of tears - or would be, if it were possible to cry in this state.

“Some therapy, we must get you.” Yoda chimed in.

“Agreed,” everyone said at once.

“But first,” Qui-Gon said undoing the top button of his shirt, “the Ewoks are having a celebration, and I’m not missing out.” 

“With you, I shall go!” Yoda said before blinking into the physical plane with Qui-Gon.

“I suppose I should go keep an eye on those two. They’ve been enjoying the afterlife a little _too_ much.” Windu said and proceeded to follow them down to the material world.

It was just the two of them now. Alone together for the first time in years. “Do you remember the last thing you said to me all those years ago on Mustafar?” Anakin said, unable to make eye contact.

“Yes. I do. And you told me you hated me.”

“I know. I didn’t want to admit it for a long time, but that’s one of my biggest regrets, and I’d like a sort of do-over.”

“Okay.”

“I know it won’t change what happened, but I want you to know that I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for upcoming chapters ;)
> 
> And a special thanks to Avery over at bitch-boy42069 on tumblr for giving us the idea of "Yoda and the Funky Fungus"


	3. Act III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin's prodigal (grand)son causes a ruckus, Qui-Gon makes innovations in the domain of post-mortem inebriants, and the authors realize they've written the Star Wars equivalent of "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead".

In all the years Yoda had been a ghost, he had never felt so thoroughly one with the Force. He felt as though he was falling back, sinking deeper and deeper as his already incorporeal form melted into the netherworld of the Force. His concept of time and space had been destroyed after his death, but in this moment, all that is, all that has been, and all that ever will be were vividly surrounding him and flooding his senses. It was as though he were lying on the shore of enlightenment, and waves of peace and warmth washed over him with the rising tide. He also had a distinct craving for something salty.

His moment of tranquility was interrupted by the sound of Master Kenobi returning from his visit to the mortal realm.

“Hello -” Obi-Wan started, “is Master Yoda okay?” 

Yoda’s eyes slowly opened to see Qui-Gon sitting next to him, looking like how he felt, and Obi-Wan and Windu standing over the both of them.

“Master Qui-Gon spent the day teaching Master Yoda how to blow smoke rings and Master Yoda was determined to figure it out, so he kept taking massive rips off of Master Qui-Gon’s…” Windu gestured at Qui-Gon’s now operational ghost bong, “whatever that is, until he got the hang of it.” 

“Oh, I see.” Obi-Wan said, slightly concerned as he processed the scene before him.

“Taste the Force, I can, but get off the floor, I cannot.” Yoda finally mustered.

“He’ll probably be back down in an hour… or five,” Qui-Gon said, vacantly smiling, “but for a novice, his smoke rings are immaculate.” He gave what a mortal could only describe as a chef’s kiss.

“Right…” Obi-Wan responded.

“Anyway,” Windu interjected, “do you have any news from your journey, Master Kenobi?”

“Why yes, Master Windu. Leia announced she and Han are expecting a child together!”

Yoda lifted his head at this and started giggling. He sank back into the ethereal floor and Qui-Gon also began laughing, although it was unclear if he was laughing at Yoda’s laughter or at what Obi-Wan said.

“Leia is pregnant?” Windu inquired, looking nervous.

“Yes, and she says that if the child is a boy, they’re planning on naming him after me-- well, the name I went by during my exile on Tatooine. I’m quite flattered.” Obi-Wan smiled.

Windu looked slightly pained. “Well, I think Leia, at least, will make a very good mother.”

“But that Han Solo,” Qui-Gon started, seemingly not sure where he was going to go, “I’m not sure how good of a father that one is going to be.”

“Hmm hmm hmm,” Yoda, continued giggling, “much genetic baggage that child will have. Messed up, they will probably be.”

“I’m sure everything will be okay. Between his parents and Luke’s guidance, this child will grow up to be a perfectly well-adjusted adult.” Obi-Wan confident look began to crack.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, getting up and putting a hand on his shoulder (partially to keep himself from falling back down), “the child’s father is _Han Solo_ , a known scoundrel, and we _all_ know who their grandfather is. I think, and hear me out, my good Padawan, we should monitor the situation.”

“I suppose that’s a good idea.” Obi-Wan said nervously.

“Master Qui-Gon, where is that new beverage you created the other day?” Windu inquired.

“Huh?” Qui-Gon said, still stabilizing himself on Obi-Wan. “Oh, yes, I call it Ghost Tequila. Here it is,” he said, handing a bottle that somehow materialized in his hand over to Windu.

“Thank Force.” Windu said, taking the bottle.

“Do you think we should tell Anakin about this?” Obi-Wan asked.

“ _No…_ ” Qui-Gon responded.

“Utterly foolish, that would be.” Yoda said, still lying down, watching the pretty colors surrounding him.

“Not. Yet.” Windu added, cracking open the tequila and taking a pull straight from the bottle.

* * *

On a tropical world in the far reaches of the outer rim, four ghostly folding chairs lined up along a broad, white-sand beach. Their occupants were clearly trying very hard to de-stress: for one thing, they were all wearing massive sunglasses of the sort frequently seen on wealthy moms the morning after a particularly indulgent wine tasting. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were playing a raucous two-man drinking game centered around a deck of cards and a Thermos full of Ghost Sangria. Meanwhile, Yoda was under attack from a flock of mid-size sea birds. Taking no notice of Windu, Qui-Gon, or Obi-Wan, the birds swooped around Yoda like a living tornado. Every now and again, a bird would land on one of his large, green ears and begin poking at his head. Luckily, his statement eyewear was shielding most of his face from the avian onslaught. Mace Windu didn’t even seem to notice this spectacle: he simply stared towards the sea, concern clear in his furrowed brow. 

“We should’ve seen this coming with Ben Solo,” he finally said. A groan rose up from his compatriots; they’d been quite eager to get the situation off of their minds. Even Yoda looked like he’d rather continue enjoying the birds’ company than think about the galaxy’s latest developing catastrophe. 

“Perhaps we should have,” said Qui-Gon, “but our foresight remains limited.”

“A Skywalker, he is,” Yoda chimed in, swatting a seagull away as it tried to stick its beak in his ear. “Always trouble, that family has been.” 

“Luke and Leia turned out perfectly alright,” said Obi-Wan defensively. 

“Yeah, clearly things turned out fine for the _recluse on a deserted island_ ,” said Windu pointedly. 

“Okay, well, Leia seems fine.” 

“You’re right, though,” Qui-Gon mused, chewing idly on a citrus fruit peel. “The Skywalkers have always been--” 

* * *

A fifth beach chair suddenly flickered into existence next to Obi-Wan’s. 

“Jeez, this is a lot of birds,” said Anakin, looking at the swirl of fauna around Yoda. 

“Poking me in the coconut, they are,” said Yoda annoyedly. 

“Just the man we were waiting for,” Qui-Gon said, clearly tipsy. “We were wondering if you could explain something to us.” 

“What?” said Anakin, trepidation in his voice. Whenever the ghosts started asking leading questions, he knew he was in for a bit of atonement for his many sins. 

“We were wondering,” said Windu, “why somehow every man in your family is so incredibly prone to catastrophe.” 

“Really proving the point, this Kylo Ren is,” said Yoda. 

“But Luke--” Anakin started. 

“--is a hermit now,” said Qui-Gon.

“Kylo Ren, though...have I missed something in the mortal realm?” asked Anakin. He’d been away on a soul-searching journey -- from what the Jedi Masters understood, it had involved a lot of hiking. 

“Oh, dear…” said Obi-Wan. 

~ _Should we tell him_? Asked Qui-Gon through the Force. 

~ _I suppose we’d better,_ Windu responded, a bit reluctantly. 

“You remember Ben Solo, right?” 

“Yes, I remember _my entire grandson_ ,” said Anakin, annoyed. 

“Well…” 

“I’m afraid that while you were gone, he fell to the Dark Side,” said Mace Windu, never one to mince words. “He’s taken the name Kylo Ren.” 

“But _why_?” Anakin’s voice was shot through with horror. “Why would he--” 

“We’re not sure either,” said Obi-Wan gently. “There is a malignant presence alive in the galaxy...one none of us have felt for over a decade.” 

“Surprises me, it does, that you did not feel it too,” said Yoda. 

“Well, I’ve been off in the woods with nothing but those cookies Master Qui-Gon gave me...you know, the ones that make everything feel wavy,” said Anakin impatiently. 

Breaking bad news had never been Obi-Wan’s strongest suit. That’s why he’d hidden Anakin’s identity from Luke for so long -- even telling the boy he had a twin had been a bit much. If Obi-Wan was being honest, he still regretted it. He had the feeling that a good deal of pain and suffering could have been avoided if he’d just been frank. Obi-Wan closed his eyes. If he was capable of breathing, he would’ve taken a deep lungful of the briny air -- instead, he just paused for an uncomfortably long amount of time. Fighting off an instinct to physically cringe, he began to speak. 

“That’s not actually the worst part.” 

“What do you mean _that’s not the worst part_ ?” asked Anakin. “You’re telling me that Kylo Ren laying shame on all the redemptive work the Skywalker bloodline has done for the last thirty years is the _good news?_ ” 

“I’m afraid so,” Obi-Wan said, feeling like he was going to die. Anakin was _not_ making this easier. “You see, it seems Kylo Ren looks up to you a great deal. Well, not to you-- to Darth Vader.” 

“He’s basically using your-- Vader’s destroyed mask as a shrine,” said Windu grimly. 

“And he wants to revive the Empire,” finished Obi-Wan. During this entire exchange, Anakin’s face had plummeted. 

“This is the worst possible scenario,” he said numbly. “My descendants were supposed to learn from my mistakes, not make them again _for the aesthetic_.” 

Lost for words at Anakin’s sorrowful predicament, Obi-Wan turned to the ghosts’ old standby: day drinking. With a snap of his fingers, through some ghostly power of unknown origin, the sangria vanished and was replaced by a citrus-based concoction. He poured Anakin a Ghost Margarita and pressed it into his hand.

“Hey, I’m proud of you,” Obi-Wan said, ruffling Anakin’s hair. 

“For producing grandchildren that are going to cause the apocalypse?” said Anakin miserably, nose buried in his voluminous Ghost Margarita glass. 

“For coming out here to see us,” said Obi-Wan, his voice layered with empathy for Anakin’s plight, “even though we’re surrounded by sand.” 

* * *

In the years since his fall to the dark side, Yoda and Mace Windu’s favorite holodrama became the “what idiotic nonsense is Kylo Ren doing now” show. Today’s episode involved a confrontation with that First Order officer, General Hux. The two of them had come into conflict over the most minute of details in an order from Supreme Leader Snoke (Yoda and Windu’s least favorite character), and one could cut the tension between the two of them with a knife. Hux had tried to assert his power as General in a private meeting between the two of them in his quarters, and Ren responded by pushing him up against a wall with one hand. Their faces were only inches apart.

“Do not question my authority, General Hux.” Kylo Ren growled.

“You wouldn’t do anything, Ren. You need me for more reasons than you’d like to admit.” Hux said, scrunching his nose, maintaining intense eye contact, and not looking in the slightest intimidated by the position he was in.

“See what I mean, do you, Master Windu?” Yoda said, watching the melodrama below him. “Feelings for each other they clearly have.”

“Have you been practicing your smoke rings again, Master Yoda? They obviously hate each other’s guts.” Windu scoffed.

“Those feelings, necessarily mutually exclusive, are not. If nothing else, attracted to young Kylo Ren, the annoying red-haired one is.” Yoda defended.

“No???” Windu had no idea what Yoda was going about this time.

“Wrong, ten credits, says you are.” 

“We are _not_ doing this again.” Windu warned.

“Doing what, again, Master Windu?” asked the voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Yoda and Windu turned around to see Obi-Wan standing right behind them with Anakin, who was looking at him with the most earnest and caring expression they’d ever seen from that walking disaster. They still hadn’t told them they knew about the affair, much less that they had taken bets on it.

“It’s not important.” Windu insisted.

It seemed, however, that Yoda had other plans. He grabbed Obi-Wan and Anakin and made them watch the tableau that had kept him occupied for the past half hour. “Think their relationship is strictly professional or not, do you?”

Obi-Wan and Anakin both shot each other quick looks that seemed to say _don’t you_ dare _tell him anything._ “Why, I wouldn’t know, Master Yoda.” Obi-Wan claimed through gritted teeth.

~ _Okay, fine, there’s a 47% chance that there’s something going on between those two._ Windu conveyed to Yoda through the Force, while side eyeing him.

~ _Told you, did I not?_ Yoda responded before chuckling. “Well, then, Master Obi-Wan. On your way, you had better be.” 

Obi-Wan and Anakin vanished with equally confused looks on their faces. Yoda then continued his lecture on the subtext between Kylo Ren and General Hux while Mace Windu stood with his palm on his face, only half-jokingly wishing he could be killed again.

* * *

“Forgive me,” said Ren, “I feel it again. The pull to the light.” He knelt before a chunk of gnarled plastic, recognizable as the half-melted mask of Darth Vader. 

“This feels like body-snatching,” murmured Qui-Gon to Obi-Wan. “What does this guy do, go around raiding all the hottest funeral pyres in town? No pun intended.” 

“This isn’t funny,” said Anakin, “it’s horrifying.” 

“We know,” said Windu in calming tones. “He’s just coping.” 

“I’m coping,” Qui-Gon confirmed, taking a shot of Ghost Tequila, then sucking on a slice of green citrus fruit he’d procured from nowhere. 

“Put a stop to this, you must,” said Yoda, shaking his head. Sighing reluctantly the entire time, Anakin slowly materialized on the mortal plane. 

* * *

“...The Supreme Leader senses it,” said Ren, still going on about his frustration with himself for secretly wanting to be an okay person instead of the worst menace anyone had ever met. He clenched his leather-clad hands into fists. 

“Grandson…” said Anakin dramatically from directly behind Ren’s left shoulder, but he took no notice. Anakin furrowed his brow. 

“Hey. Kylo. Kylo Ren,” said Anakin -- no response. Instead, Ren just continued his unsettling litany. 

“Show me again the power of the darkness,” he said. 

“I absolutely will not!” Anakin exclaimed. “Are you kidding me? Watching your life is like watching two freighters collide in slow motion!” 

“...and I will let nothing stand in our way!” Ren vowed. Anakin rolled his eyes. 

“Show me!” Ren paused for an unreal amount of time before adding, “...Grandfather.”

“I cannot stress enough that this is the opposite of what I want!” yelled Anakin at the top of the lungs he did not possess. “You’re making all the mistakes I regret, _but_ **_worse_ **!” 

“...And I will finish what you started,” Ren rhapsodized, completely unaware that his appalled grandfather was tearing his ghostly hair out mere meters away. If Anakin were alive, he would’ve felt like this conversation was causing him to hurtle towards his grave. 

“That’s the game we’re playing?” Anakin muttered. “Fine.” Anakin closed his eyes, concentrating. Every object in the room not attached to something levitated an inch into the air, then slammed down. 

“Is this a sign!?” inquired Ren at the absolute top of his lungs. 

“It’s a sign that you’re making the worst life choices I’ve ever seen in anyone other than myself!” said Anakin, outraged. 

“The power of my bloodline is alive within me!” 

“The power to commit crimes really isn’t that impressive!” exclaimed Anakin in utter despair unto his grandson’s unknowing ears. 

“Forward with our plans!” said Ren triumphantly. If he’d taken the time to look around, he might have noticed that all the dust in the room had coagulated to spell out “NO!”, exclamation point and all, in massive block letters on the floor. Instead, he walked directly through Anakin’s spirit and out the door. 

“Is this what it felt like to teach me?” said Anakin unhappily. 

“No,” said Obi-Wan. 

“Yes,” said Yoda at the same time, shrugging noncommittally. 

“I’d almost say this is more frustrating,” said Windu, appearing to Anakin’s other side. 

“It’s not your fault, Anakin,” said Obi-Wan. 

“Well, it’s kind of his fault.” 

“Not really!” 

“Please, please,” said Qui-Gon, as he entered the room wearing a pair of incredibly reflective, perfectly round sunglasses. “Decisions are decisions. The absence of a decision is a decision. Every path taken nips infinite beginnings in the bud...flowers frosted before ever they bloomed…” Everyone stared at him in silence as he exhaled a tremendous amount of smoke. 

Obi-Wan sighed deeply. “Come on, Anakin. Let me pour you a drink. We’ve almost got the Ghost Tequila recipe adjusted so it won’t cause involuntary astral projection.” 

* * *

Anakin knew that he probably shouldn’t cheer on a couple of kids he’d hardly met as they tried to kill his grandson, but he couldn’t resist. Anakin couldn’t help seeing Luke’s reflection in Rey -- she was just as naive as Anakin’s son had once been, just as noble, and just as shockingly tolerant of sand. Finn, meanwhile, was kind, funny, and -- although he was just as disaster-prone as many prominent figures in galactic history the ghosts had encountered throughout their years -- he actually seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. 

“Get him!” yelled Qui-Gon, eating a handful of Ghost Popcorn. He had no such qualms about rooting for Kylo Ren’s imminent destruction. 

“Obi-Wan, go check on Finn, would you?” said Yoda to Obi-Wan. After wielding a lightsaber with such skill that all the ghosts assumed he must be Force-sensitive, Finn had been knocked unconscious in the fight’s opening stanzas. The ghosts had taken a rotating shift to make sure that he was in stable condition. Obi-Wan nodded, quickly dematerializing. 

From a Jedi training perspective, Rey was completely unprepared for a lightsaber duel. From any other perspective, though, her years of bare-bones desert life had made her both a little unhinged and basically indestructible. Miraculously, she was giving Kylo Ren an ass-kicking he wouldn’t soon forget -- perhaps she was fortified by the ineffable audience cheering on each of her dodges and attacks. Her saber bit into Ren’s leg, then his shoulder. He fell back, breathing hard. Rey’s face was written over with the realization that she had a chance -- not only of surviving the fight, but of winning it. 

“Come on, you’ve got it!” yelled Windu as the two locked sabers, each gritting their teeth against the spitting, crackling weapons hovering inches in front of their faces. They struggled, locked in an impasse, and then Ren fell back. All four ghosts yelled in concert. Ghost Popcorn, invisible to the mortal eye, scattered the snowy ground.

“Finish him!” Windu proclaimed, his tone only somewhat sardonic. 

“She isn’t going to,” said Qui-Gon calmly. Indeed, she stepped back instead of seizing the opportunity to deal a killing blow. Almost immediately, the earth sprang open between Rey and her prone opponent, the catastrophic forces barely contained within Starkiller Base finally beginning to split it apart. 

“Hm. Prudent,” said Windu. “I like that one.” 

“More prudent to kill him, it would have been,” Yoda grumbled. “Now, more of his nonsense, we’ll have to deal with.” 

* * *

Yoda appeared behind Master Windu and Master Qui-Gon holding a fresh bowl of their favorite ethereal snack: Ghost Popcorn. 

“Master Yoda, thank Force you’re back. I was starving.” Qui-Gon said, noticing Yoda’s arrival.

“Miss anything important, have I?”

“Well, if by important you mean that somehow or another, Rey and Kylo Ren held hands through the Force, Luke found them and destroyed Rey’s hut, kicked her off the island, and then told her that he briefly contemplated murdering Ben Solo in his sleep, then yeah. I’d say you missed something slightly important,” snapped Windu, who was wearing the oversized sunglasses he only wears when he had a headache or was planning on getting one the next morning.

~ _Get the snacks, you should have, since eat all the old ones, you did,_ Yoda told Qui-Gon through the Force so as to not make Windu’s headache worse.

 _~Quite true, Master Yoda, but in all honesty, none of us could have expected that big of a Skywalker Meltdown to happen in the time it takes to go on a snack run,_ Qui-Gon responded.

When Yoda looked back down to watch the Meltdown, he saw Luke rummaging around his hut for something. Finally, he found what he was looking for and gave it an intense smile. He absolutely looked feral. And then the ghosts realized what he had.

“A torch, is that?!” Yoda exclaimed.

“Sure is.” Qui-Gon concurred.

Windu massaged his temple and clenched his other hand into a fist. Were he alive, those around him probably would have been very concerned he was going to burst a blood vessel. “I think we should do something.” He said through gritted teeth.

In that moment, Anakin materialized next to him. “Is everything alright, masters? I sensed that Master Windu was in distress. What’s going on?”

“Your _son_ ,” Windu hissed, “is having a breakdown and is about to commit arson.”

“Uh…” Anakin started, looking bewildered, “oh -- um -- give me just a moment...” and he popped out of existence.

The remaining ghosts were two seconds away from going off about how utterly unhelpful that was when Anakin reappeared with Obi-Wan, who looked like he had just been woken up from a nap… if that’s even possible.

“So, Luke is having a crisis?” Obi-Wan asked.

“An understatement, that would be.” Yoda said while shoveling Ghost Popcorn in his face.

“I take that to mean we’re going to need to go down there and talk some sense into him?”

“Pretty much,” Qui-Gon answered, “but we need to come up with something quick before he does anything stupid...er.”

“I don’t think it would be wise for me or Master Qui-Gon to go down there since he doesn’t know us that well.” Windu asserted.

“Agreed.” Qui-Gon said with a mouth full of Ghost Popcorn from the bowl he was sharing with Yoda.

“I could go.” Anakin started. “I _am_ his father --”

“NO.” The others said in unison.

“I’ll go. He trusts me and I know a thing or two about going into exile after an apprentice turned to the dark side,” Obi-Wan side-eyed Anakin, “and I have experience with the accompanying emotions.”

“The last thing he needs is someone to indulge him in his pity party,” Windu said, pushing the sunglasses onto his head.

“I would not!” Obi-Wan protested.

“Into exile, I have also been.” Yoda said, still huddled around the bowl of Ghost Popcorn, “But train the biggest fool in the galaxy, I have not.”

Everyone stared at each other in silence and then in unison decided, “Yoda’s going.”

“Then go, I will. Master Qui-Gon?” Yoda gestured for Qui-Gon to bring him something.

Qui-Gon handed Yoda the Ghost Bong, who took a massive rip off of it before taking the plunge into the material world.

The ghosts watched intensely. They had no idea what to expect, but they assumed that Yoda would start with a gentle conversation. Instead he summoned a lightning bolt, blew up the tree library that contained the sacred fucking Jedi texts, and dissolved into a giggle fit.

“Mmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm. Ah, Skywalker, missed you, have I.” He said to Luke with a goofy look on his face.

“Okay, maybe we should have sent Obi-Wan instead,” Windu said, putting his sunglasses back on and putting his face in his hands.

* * *

Was it a “good” idea for the ghosts to let Qui-Gon build musical instruments? Probably not. Was it a “good” idea to let him convince them to start a non-corporeal band? Absolutely not. But was it an entertaining way to spend eternity? Yes, yes it was. Especially since they had a habit of getting rowdy after they practiced. But this week’s post-rehearsal party was especially wild.

Mace Windu couldn’t exactly remember how they got here, but he was giving Obi-Wan a disorderly lecture on his newest hobby: chess. “That’s the thing about the game, Master Kenobi,” he gestured with the half-empty immaterial bottle of wine in his hand, “one has to have patience, yet maintain vigilance. You need a strong opening gambit, so you can play the long game, so that you can be successful in the endgame.” He took a swig of wine straight out of the bottle.

“Quite right, Master Windu…” Obi-Wan trailed off, unable to keep up with Windu’s rant both because of its unhinged nature and because the volume of the trance music flowing through the Force around them was becoming _astronomical_.

They turned their heads to see what in the hell was going on. Through a cloud of smoke, they could just barely make out Qui-Gon sitting on the immaterial floor with his Ghost Bong, swaying to the music. On either side of him were two figures flailing around in what they assumed was supposed to be an attempt at dancing. Based on the size of the figures and the fact they didn’t have any other friends, they deduced that the chaotically oscillating figures must have been Yoda and Anakin.

“Will you quiet down?! I’m trying to explain to Master Kenobi how to avoid stalemate!” Windu shouted over the music.

 _~So, that’s what he’s been trying to explain._ Obi-Wan conveyed to Qui-Gon.

“You need to unwind, Master Windu. Let the music take you on a journey.” Qui-Gon loudly said, letting his hair swish back and forth to the beat.

“No fun, you are.” Yoda said doing what might have been an attempt at shaking his hips, but the intention of his dance move was unclear.

Windu rolled his eyes and turned back to Obi-Wan. He was determined to finish his lecture, but before he could continue, Anakin bounded up to them and grabbed Obi-Wan’s hand.

“Come on, Obi-Wan, you should join us!” Anakin said excitedly.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t, Anakin.” Obi-Wan responded uncomfortably.

“C’mon. It’ll be fun, old man.”

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin, looked at Windu (who was still clutching the wine bottle), and then looked back at Anakin, “Oh, alright,” he conceded.

Right as Anakin pulled Obi-Wan out onto the makeshift dance floor, all of the ghosts noticed what felt like an abrupt change in pressure, as if the room had suddenly and rapidly plummeted below sea level. Obi-Wan looked on in alarm as Luke’s spectral form blipped into existence.

* * *

Luke surveyed the room, not sure whether he was scandalized or completely not surprised by the scene that met his eyes. Qui-Gon, who was wearing socks with sandals and somehow making it look artistic, was taking a rip from his Ghost Bong. To Luke’s astonishment, Yoda was upside down, balancing on one hand as he executed some kind of space breakdancing move as Qui-Gon cheered him on, snapping like an academic supporting a friend at a spoken word competition. Mace Windu, holding a half-empty wine bottle, was drenched in both booze and exasperation. Anakin and Obi-Wan, inexplicably, were holding hands. Upon Luke’s entrance, the two of them looked furtively at one another, clearly communicating something through the Force, and proceeded to shake hands quite professionally and with a massive, unnecessary amount of energy. With a soft _thunk_ , Yoda toppled from his inverted position onto the floor. 

As he watched the ghost rave’s last sparks fizzle out, the disembodied spirit of Luke Skywalker uttered the only three words flashing through his otherwise blank brain...

“What is _happening_?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was brought to you by just about every shitpost we've ever seen.  
> Stay tuned for exponential gayness.


	4. Act IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is gay, Finn and Poe are engaged now because we said so, and redemption is a journey, not a destination. Meanwhile the authors live in fear of what they have created.

“This is miserable,” moaned Anakin. He was wrapped in eight blankets, all of which Qui-Gon had crocheted in shades of turquoise, lime, and magenta. His reflective sunglasses glinted as he sipped his bucket-sized Ghost Margarita through a curly straw. “I don’t know how you can watch.” 

“It’s our duty,” said Mace Windu, the pitch of his voice warning of an impending Teaching Moment. Anakin just groaned. 

Kylo Ren declaring himself Supreme Leader had really done a number on Anakin. Obi-Wan had rarely seen him so upset. 

“This isn’t your fault,” he said gently. 

“That’s not really what I’m upset about,” Anakin mumbled. “I mean, sure, the implications of his Darth Vader worship are...I’m not even going to go there right now. But -- after all we sacrificed-- our  _ lives _ ! And for all of it to be undone by Leia’s son...it feels like some kind of cosmic insult.” 

“Come on, Anakin. Someone will always rise to fight the next great evil. The universe requires balance...that’s why there’s always a good reason to have hope.” Obi-Wan allowed himself a brief half-smile at this pep talk, which he considered rather snappy. 

A loud “thunk” mingled with a dramatic, prolonged groan as Anakin fell off of their ghostly couch and onto the floor. 

Obi-Wan sighed quietly and began formulating his next onslaught of positivity. Even after all this time, Anakin had never quite overcome a certain instinct to linger on his misfortunes. Obi-Wan had to admit, though, that this situation was well worth a good wallow. 

“What’s shaking, party people!?” called Qui-Gon loudly as he flickered into view, shattering the gloomy atmosphere. His eyes twinkled with such goodwill that even Anakin perked up. 

“What in the name of all that is good in the universe does that mean?” asked Windu. 

“It means that we’ve got a development,” he said, and waggled his eyebrows furiously. 

* * *

“What are we doing here?” asked Anakin. His shoulders were slumped heavily, as if they were being dragged down by gravity his ghostly form no longer felt. “We can’t even eat.” 

The ghosts were seated in Resistance headquarters’ mess hall. It was a spare, worn-down place, scrubbed to the point of cleanliness specific to rooms that are trying to forget their shabbiness. Even so, the groups of pilots, officers, and techies seated around the scuffed tables imbued the space with the almost frantically homelike energy of a safe haven. Talk bubbled cheerfully between the tables, weaving around and past dark under-eye shadows and visible battle scars. Every so often, a shout of laughter punctuated the soft conversational buzz. 

“Just watch,” said Qui-Gon. He winked. 

As if on cue, the noise ebbed out. The room filled with a humming quiet. 

“Something wrong, is there?” asked Yoda. “No disturbance, I feel.” Qui-Gon just gestured towards the door. 

Rey’s hair was falling out of its customary three knots, framing her face. Fresh from a training session, she wore a shirt that exposed her arms, grown broad and tan since her time on Ahch-To. Her pants were made out of some kind of leather, slit up the sides then laced back together to show an inch or two of skin. A solid third of the mess hall, mostly women, swiveled to stare at her. Fifty-some pairs of eyes traveled the length from her unraveling hair to the toe of her worn leather boots. One techie was even literally fanning herself, but Rey seemed utterly oblivious. She sat down and commenced to casually chewing on an assortment of fried root vegetables. 

Eventually, Rey looked around, a little uneasy. By that point, most people had returned to their food and their conversations, though every now and again somebody turned and threw her a glance. Rey stood, returned her eating utensils, and walked out of the room, looking behind herself with a furrowed brow. 

* * *

“Everybody thinks I’m weird,” complained Rey a sum of hours later. She and Finn sat across from each other in the mostly-vacated mess hall. Qui-Gon, meanwhile, had kicked his feet up onto the ghosts’ table. 

“Yeah, that’s because you’re weird,” Finn returned blithely. 

“Seriously,” Rey said mournfully. “I feel like everyone stares at me when I walk into a room. Is this a ‘disappeared for Jedi training’ thing? Or do I have a hole in the seat of my pants or something?” 

“I don’t think that’s why they’re staring,” said Finn, a chuckle barely hidden in his voice. 

“Well, that’s vague,” she grumped.

“Okay. You seriously haven’t noticed that Jess Pava can’t take her eyes off of you? You know, the X-Wing pilot who kept bringing you tools to fix up the Falcon ‘just in case’?” 

“I  _ have _ noticed! That’s the entire problem! Have you  _ seen _ how amazing she is? She’s absolutely fearless. And funny, with-- with beautiful hair. I want her to like me. But she thinks! I’m! Weird!” She punctuated each word by whacking a hand on the table in frustration. 

Finn sighed. “Well, she’s-- look, I’ve got to go, but we’re going to talk about this later, okay?” 

“Okay,” said Rey, then put her head down on the table with a  _ thunk _ that bore more than a passing resemblance to Anakin’s earlier tumble off of the couch. 

Qui-Gon cleared his throat. 

“Don’t do something impulsive…” said Windu, voice full of the knowledge that his advice wouldn’t be taken. 

“Oh, I’m just going to make a suggestion,” said Qui-Gon. He closed his eyes, and a shaker of salt tipped over on Rey’s table, scattering white crystals across the worn plastic. She looked up, startled.

“Hello?” asked Rey. 

“Here,” said Qui-Gon. “Subtle hinting. Watch and learn.” He raised a hand and the salt began to rearrange seemingly of its own accord. 

“What the…” said Rey, swiveling around the canteen. “Hello? Can you hear me? Make yourself visible!” She looked down at the table, and her brow furrowed. Then her face lit up like a lamp, the spark of realization bright in her eyes. 

“What did you--oh,” said Obi-Wan, stepping over to look over Rey’s shoulder. He looked back up to Qui-Gon. “ _ Subtle _ ?” 

Written in salt were the words “YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON HER!”, exclamation point and all. 

* * * 

“Sorry I’m late,” said Rey, bursting into Poe’s quarters, where he and Finn stood over a table littered with a rainbow of ribbon. “I love women!” 

Invisibly to the mortals in the room, Qui-Gon did a victory lap, high-fiving the rest of the ghosts. She hardly seemed to notice Poe and Finn looking at her expectantly. After several silent moments, she realized that her friends expected exposition. 

“I realized today that I am interested in women! And that they’re interested in me.”

“You just realized that  _ today _ ?” asked Poe, lifting a brow. 

“With possibly supernatural assistance,” she said. Finn dashed over and enveloped her in a massive hug. Poe knocked his chair over as he leapt up to embrace her from the other side, ruffling her hair until it fell completely out of any hairstyle it might’ve once been. 

“We’re so proud of you,” Finn said, sounding dangerously teary. “And we love you unconditionally, you know?” 

“I know,” said Rey, blushing. She stepped back and wiped her eyes. “Anyway, enough about me. This is about you two and your big day. I’m thinking the blue and yellow, aren’t you? For the ribbons?” 

“That’s exactly what we were thinking.” Finn paused. “Hey, did I tell you that--” 

“Blue’s your favorite color and yellow is Poe’s? What kind of wedding planner do you think I am? I did my research!” 

“Or you grabbed it out of our brains with your mind powers,” said Poe. 

“Hey, I do not  _ grab _ things out of  _ brains _ with my  _ mind powers _ ,” Rey protested, employing gratuitous air quotes, a wide grin on her face. 

Anakin turned to look at Qui-Gon, who looked unbelievably smug. 

“Okay, that actually cheered me up,” admitted Anakin begrudgingly. 

* * *

Rey closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It seemed like the more tense she got, the further her shoulders crept up in the general direction of her ears. It was like her body was unconsciously trying to shrug off the mountain of expectations placed on her by...well, by anyone who hoped that balance would be restored to the Force. 

It was kind of a lot. Anakin knew the feeling. 

He seemed to be the only one who was really paying attention, though. Mace Windu, usually the group’s designated driver, was well into a red-wine haze. Yoda was swaying to a rhythm only he could hear, and Qui-Gon appeared to be literally astral projecting. Even Obi-Wan had kicked back to enjoy a Ghost Margarita. 

Anakin could see Rey’s eyes moving behind her closed eyelids.

~ _ Be with me _ , she willed through the Force. Anakin could hardly hear her command; as soon as she’d thought it, it faltered and died. Rey felt it as well; she took a deep breath, biting down frustration. 

~ _ Be with me _ , Rey thought. Her face hardened in concentration. At her side, one of her hands shook. This time, Rey’s will passed through Anakin like an electric current. The call resonated through their ghostly dimension. 

“A call, I feel,” said Yoda. 

“I feel it too, Master Yoda--”

“A call... _ TO DANCE _ !” Yoda shook his minuscule hips. He began to boogie, shimmying hither and thither at rapid and unpredictable speed. 

“What in Force’s name have you been drinking?” Obi-Wan asked, a slight slur dampening his words. 

“What  _ haven’t _ I been drinking, the question is,” muttered Yoda, distracted. 

“My Masters, I hate to interrupt, but I feel--”

“You can? I can’t!” interrupted Qui-Gon, his tone enveloped an air of mystical calm. “My form is beyond this or any plane. I feel like two lips floating in a large jar.” He followed that proclamation with an undignified smooching noise. “See?” 

“What?” laughed Mace Windu, commencing to chuckle so vigorously that he snorted wine out through his left nostril. 

“Lips!” said Qui-Gon. 

“Like a rocket, I could fly,” mused Yoda. He used his mind to levitate several feet into the air, a wicked glint in his eye. 

“Please don’t,” mumbled Obi-Wan. 

Anakin watched as an expression of utter confusion flitted across Rey’s face, followed by the frustration she’d been trying to control. Their connection was severed as her concentration weakened, and she whacked her left fist against the unyielding ground. 

* * *

“Have you had any luck contacting the Jedi spirits?” asked Leia. Her gravelly voice was laden with sympathy for the young woman who stood before her, overflowing with impatience and energy, unconsciously bouncing her left leg.

“I’m  _ trying _ ,” said Rey, “and I keep thinking I’m there, but then…” 

“Then what?” 

“It’s like I can hear them -- I hear  _ something _ , but I don’t understand what they’re saying. It just doesn’t make sense. Maybe I’m not doing this right. My mind just keeps going to the weirdest place…”

In the ghost realm, Anakin levied a dark look at his companions. Qui-Gon bowed his head in acknowledgement. 

“We should speak to her directly,” he said. 

“And while stone-cold sober,” added Windu. 

* * *

Master Yoda and Master Windu sat on an ethereal sofa sipping wine and discussing the state of the galaxy. After a few glasses, it became obvious that neither of them were capable of talking about heavy subjects (much less wanted to talk about them), so they decided to steer the conversation to a much more fun topic: Rey’s developing love life.

“Wonder how Rey and the X-Wing Pilot are, I do.” Yoda said, finishing his glass of wine.

“That’s a good question, Master Yoda.” Windu said, pouring Yoda another glass.

“Check in on her, should we?”

“She’s been training a lot, so I doubt we’ll get an update, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to check in.”

They set the bottle of wine down on their ghostly side table, and peeked through the veil to see what Rey was up to. As it turns out, they  _ were  _ able to get an update on Rey’s attempts to seduce Jessika. 

“Good for her.” Windu said as he and Yoda returned to their seats.

“Getting on well, those two, it seems.” Yoda said, blinking frequently, as though he were trying to get something out of his eyes.

They clinked their glasses together and then chugged the remaining wine they had. Windu momentarily thought that glass hit disproportionately harder than the rest, until he realized the wonky feeling in the metaphorical room was not alcohol, but instead Anakin showing up.

“Hi Masters,” he said, sounding surprisingly relieved to see them. 

“Hello, Skywalker-- oh no, what has Master Qui-Gon done to you?” Windu said through borderline hysterical laughter as he noticed the floral hair clip from the Great Beyond that was holding Anakin’s hair tucked behind his right ear.

Yoda laughed so hard he toppled over and got stuck there, trapped in a prison of his own mirth, unable to make a sound.

“It, I guess,” Anakin said, pointing at the flower in his hair, “is his newest invention… So, anyway, how are things going?”

“For Rey, coming along well with the girl, things are.” Yoda said, still on his side, but finally able to form words.

“Is this true?” Anakin asked Windu, who seemed to be in a slightly more coherent state.

“Yes, it seems their feelings are mutual.”

“Really? That’s great! I don’t know why, but I’m really proud of her. I’m gonna go check on her.”

“Wait,” Windu started, “Anakin, that’s not a great idea because they--” but it was too late, he’d already blipped into the mortal realm, “well, he’ll find out soon enough.”

* * *

In the land of the living, specifically in an otherwise uninhabited hanger, were the sounds of a hushed conversation between two women.

“Is it okay if I..?” Rey's voice quietly carried across the room.

“Please,” replied the voice of Jessika Pava.

Anakin stealthily darted behind a nearby X-Wing. He hadn’t actually thought through what he was going to say and he didn’t want to startle Rey since she was talking with Jessika. The sound of the conversation had died down a bit, but he was able to figure out it was coming from the general vicinity of a pile of crates, so he tiptoed around the X-Wing to get a better look. What he saw first was Rey in her pants and undershirt, lying face down, then he noticed the bare legs on either side of her body.

Rey lifted her head up and wiped her mouth off. “Is this good?”

“A little higher.”

“Okay. Give me a second.” Rey pushed herself up onto her knees and pulled her shirt off, revealing her back, toned from years of scavenging as well as her more recent training. “Much better.” 

Rey then repositioned herself, lowering her head back down, and wrapping her arms around the thighs of her lover, who let out a gasp that echoed through the hanger.

_ Oh, kriff, no….  _ Anakin thought as he immediately retreated to the spiritual realm. 

* * *

Anakin reappeared next to Yoda and Windu. Had he been alive, they would have said he looked like he had seen a ghost. 

“I would definitely agree that their feelings are mutual.” Anakin said in a state of shock.

“Seen something,  _ alarming _ , have you?” Yoda inquired.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

~ _ Scandalized, I am surprised he is.  _ Yoda conveyed to Windu. They were both  _ still _ unable to get the mental image of the Archives Incident out of their heads. At this point they had come to terms with it being permanently tattooed to the backs of their eyelids and living rent-free in their brains.

~ _ Now he finally knows how we feel,  _ Windu replied. 

* * *

Windu honestly didn’t know how he ended up in this situation-- maybe it was because Master Qui-Gon, for all his nonsense, had a lot of charisma, but they were about to provide music for the Aki-Aki Festival of the Ancestors.  _ Maybe that’s it,  _ he thought,  _ it kind of makes sense to have a group of literal dead people at a festival celebrating those who have passed… _ Regardless, their performance was supposed to start in half an hour, and he was the only one even remotely close to being ready. Well, it seemed that Yoda was close to being ready-- he was at least in the correct clothing, but he was so deep in meditation that he was fleeting between different planes of existence.

“Alright, everyone, let’s focus in.” Windu said, gaining no notice from the rest of the group.

Obi-Wan and Anakin were arguing about setting up their baffling mix of corporeal and incorporeal equipment. Anakin was their tech guy because, well, that had always been his thing (and he had the musical talent of a discarded left shoe), but Obi-Wan was determined to figure it out.

“Obi-Wan, let me do it. This is my job.” 

“Give me a moment, I’ve almost got this,” he snapped at Anakin.

“ _ Please,  _ just let me help you. I’ve been building things basically since I’ve been able to string a sentence together. This is painful to watch.”

Meanwhile, Qui-Gon was taking full advantage of having a physical mirror in the tent they were provided to get ready in, and decided to attempt the application of spectral makeup. Windu walked over to get his attention.

“Master Qui-Gon, what in Force’s name are you doing?” He asked calmly.

“Master Windu, I’m making sure I don’t look washed out.” Qui-Gon replied.

“Master Qui-Gon, have you forgotten you are, in fact, deceased? And as such, you  _ always _ look washed out.” 

“And that, Master Windu, is why I need to do damage control-- I’m so translucent, no one will be able to see me from twenty rows back.” 

“Does it really matter? This is about providing music for a festival that happens every thirty years--”

“Forty two--” Qui-Gon corrected.

“Regardless, this is not about looking good. It is a huge honor that they let us be one of the groups performing, which is why we can’t be late and we need to be professional.” 

“Exactly, and part of being professional is looking put-together. Plus, don’t you think Anakin would look pretty with eyeliner on?” Qui-Gon said with a fiendish smile recognizable to anyone who’s begrudgingly received a makeover at a slumber party.

Anakin and Obi-Wan stopped bickering just long enough to shout “HUH???” at that last remark before returning to quarreling over the order in which things needed to be plugged.

Windu’s lip curled. “That won’t be necessary, Master Qui-Gon,” he said in a much less patient tone of voice, “because Skywalker isn’t performing with us, remember?”

“Oh, right…” 

“Now, please, if I could get everyone’s attention, we need to get ready and we need to do it fast because--”

A disturbance in the Force prevented him from being able to finish his statement. Ironically, this was the only thing that was able to get the others to come out of their own little worlds. They all went outside at the sound of distressed festivalgoers and saw the First Order showing up, in pursuit of something.

“Just when I thought this couldn’t get any worse…” Windu said, putting his head in his hands.

* * *

Despite the First Order raid (and their better judgement), they still managed to get their set in. It went about as well as one would expect with this lot, but everyone seemed to enjoy it after the distressing interruption. Now, as they watched Rey throwing sticks at Kylo Ren’s burning TIE whisper on Ahch-To, they realized they probably should have been paying more attention to the land of the living, and that they  _ definitely  _ should have investigated that disturbance earlier in the day. They were all looking at each other uncomfortably, shifting around, hoping one of the others would say something.

Windu finally broke the silence. “Okay, I think we need someone to get down there and talk to her.” 

“I am  _ not _ going this time,” Anakin said without any hesitation.

“Want you to, we would not.” Yoda said, giggling a little bit.

Anakin sighed. “Thank you, Master Yoda…” 

“But also, unwise, I think, for me to talk with her. Know her well, I do not.”

“Nobody here ‘knows her well’,” Windu said in a mocking tone. “None of us have even spoken with her.”

“I did. I spoke to her and helped her discover her true self,” Qui-Gon said, running his hand through his hair.

“You rearranged salt!” Windu said with a look of pure exasperation.

“Do you want to go down there?” Anakin asked Obi-Wan.

“I suppose I could if I had to, but it’s not ideal.”

“Wait a minute,” Windu said in a moment of clarity, “Luke knows her.”

“Good luck finding him…” Anakin said. None of them had seen Luke since they all went on a camping trip on Endor where their utterly unnecessary campfire almost burned down the entire forest.

Obi-Wan put his hands on his hips. “I have a suspicion,” he said, and then faded away.

“Do you think he’ll be able to find Luke?” Windu asked Anakin.

“I don’t know, but he certainly knows him better than I do... Which sounds a lot sadder when I say it out loud.”

Obi-Wan reappeared with the specter of Luke Skywalker, who looked grumpy, but slightly less like the hermit he’d become in later years.

“Find him, where did you?” Yoda asked.

“On Tatooine,” Obi-Wan replied, prompting Anakin to visibly cringe.

“Makes sense.” Windu and Qui-Gon said in unison.

“Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” Luke asked the other spirits.

“That,” Obi-Wan said, pointing to Rey through the curtain between the realms, “is going on.”

“Oh, no…” Luke said at the sight of Rey’s breakdown.

“Oh, yes.” Obi-Wan replied.

“Talk to her--” Yoda started.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” Luke said, rolling his eyes and flickering into the mortal plane.

* * *

Luke arrived in the land of the living just in time to catch the lightsaber Rey had attempted to chuck into the inferno.

“A Jedi’s weapon deserves more respect,” he said to her.

“Didn’t he toss that thing away the first time they met?” Qui-Gon asked the group before getting shushed by Windu.

Rey’s eyes grew wide. “Master Skywalker?” 

“What are  _ you _ doing?” He said, sounding completely disgusted. It seemed that death had only made Luke more dramatic.

This sent the ghosts into a fit of laughter that abruptly stopped as they learned why Rey had decided to exile herself.

* * *

Luke blipped back into the ghost realm to five pairs of eyes staring at him in abject horror. 

“Rey is a  _ Palpatine _ ?” asked Windu. “Luke, you just...knew this? And  _ Leia _ knew? First of all, how...second of all, why…” 

“He had  _ kids _ ?” asked Anakin. Silence hung heavy between the spirits. 

“If children, Palpatine had…” started Yoda, chewing on the end of a Ghost Joint (Qui-Gon’s latest invention). 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to eat that, Master Yoda,” said Windu. 

“A coward, I am not,” said Yoda, not offering any further explanation whatsoever. Qui-Gon couldn’t imagine that it tasted nice at all, but, then again, Qui-Gon couldn’t imagine eating nothing but root stew on Dagobah for twenty years. 

“Let him finish, though,” said Qui-Gon. “I’m interested to see where this thought is headed.” 

“From nothing, a child does not appear.” Yoda mused. “So Sheev...sexually active, has been.” 

The collective outcry at this pronouncement was enough to give Force-sensitive beings across the galaxy a nervous breakdown. 

“NO!” yelled Anakin, in typical fashion. 

“Why did you let him finish his thought?” moaned Windu, clutching his ears as if afraid they were about to part company with his head out of sheer revulsion. 

“Believe me, I also wish I wasn’t thinking about it. Seriously,” Luke said wearily, then made an extended gagging noise like a tusk cat hacking up a Sheev-sized hairball. 

“Even the irredeemably evil have sex,” Qui-Gon pointed out. “Just look at Kylo Ren and-- what’s his name? General Hugs, right?” 

“Please do NOT talk about my grandson like that,” interjected an appalled Anakin. 

“I wish I wasn’t thinking about this.” 

“I wish I wasn’t thinking.” 

“Well, this has been in my mind since I learned about Rey’s family. Looks like you’re all going to have to...release your attachment to the bliss of ignorance,” said Luke.

“Oh, come on!” 

The ghosts’ conversation quickly devolved into squabbling, the furor only broken when Qui-Gon commenced to pouring shots all around. 

“Perhaps this Ghost Vodka will help disinfect the prisms of our minds from such grotesquerie,” he said. “It’s my latest recipe.” 

* * *

Before they knew it, they were watching Rey attempt to defeat Palpatine while the Resistance tried to take down his fleet of absurdly overpowered Star Destroyers. Both Rey and Kylo Ren-- Ben Solo (Kylo Ben?) were down for the count, and things were not looking good.

~ _ Be with me.  _ Rey conveyed through the Force.

“Oh no.” Obi-Wan said to the group as he realized what needed to happen next.

Anakin was completely flustered. “Um, okay, uh, what should we say?” 

“I’ll go first. Quickly, everyone, think of something to say.”

~ _ These are your final steps, Rey. Rise, and take them,  _ Obi-Wan communicated to her.

~ _ Rey--  _ Anakin started.

~ _ Rey--  _ Windu interrupted.

~ _ Bring back the balance, Rey, as I did _ , Anakin continued.

~ _ You’re not alone, Rey,  _ Windu conveyed.

~ _ Alone, never have you been, _ Yoda added.

~ _ Every Jedi who ever lived, lives in you,  _ Qui-Gon transmitted while taking a massive bong rip.

Anakin tried to come up with anything that might possibly be helpful. ~ _ The Force surrounds you, Rey. _

_ ~Feel the Force flowing through you, Rey,  _ Windu clarified.

_ ~Let it lift you,  _ Anakin added, trying to one-up Windu.

_ ~We stand behind you, Rey,  _ Qui-Gon added, as though he weren’t lying on the floor of the afterlife.

The clarity of their advice began deteriorating rapidly. Then Luke, who seemed to be the primary keeper of the group’s collective common sense that day, offered some final words of encouragement.  _ ~Rey, the Force will be with you, always.  _

* * *

Somehow or another, this actually worked, and Rey managed to take down crusty ol’ Sheev, but it had drained the life out of her. The ghosts sensed her presence drifting closer and closer to them. Then something surprising happened: Ben dragged his sorry ass from wherever Palpatine had launched him to and transferred all of his life force to Rey, which promptly kicked his soul right onto the spiritual doorstep of the Force ghosts.

When Ben Solo awoke in the afterlife, the silence was resounding. 

Then -- “Why are  _ you _ here?” 

He looked around him, then stumbled back several steps. A cluster of brown-cloaked figures stared at him. As far as he could tell, none of them were corporeal...and they were all staring at him like he’d just streaked at a funeral. 

“You weren’t redeemed,” said Windu, all the authority of the Jedi Council in his voice.

“But--I sacrificed my life for Rey’s,” Ben said. “I made my choice.” 

“Ben, that’s barely a choice,” Obi-Wan said, a firm gentleness in his voice. “A single act of sacrifice rarely atones for a lifetime of wrongs. In all my years, I’ve only seen one true redemption happen like that…” He looked significantly at the man next to him. 

“Who?” 

“You really don’t know?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Don’t know  _ what _ ?” 

Anakin stepped forward. 

“Ben, it’s me. I’m--” He paused, chuckled woefully. “Always the dramatic reveal. I’m your grandfather.” 

Ben staggered back several feet, fell backwards over a ghostly beach chair, and landed squarely on his back. If he’d had any breath left, it would’ve been knocked out of him. 

“ _ You’re  _ Darth Vader?” he wheezed. Anakin winced as if struck. 

“No,” he said, his voice a study in hard-earned patience. “I’m Anakin Skywalker.” 

“But you-- I didn’t realize you looked like a--” 

“--Regular person, not like Darth Vader?” interjected Anakin, raising his brows. 

“Don’t be rude,” cautioned Obi-Wan, doing his level best to look threatening. After a very long,  _ very _ awkward stretch of silence, the ghosts went around and introduced themselves to a deeply confused Ben. 

~ _ Does he really deserve our help _ ? Obi-Wan asked his companions.  _ So much evil done, and for so little reason… _

~ _ The Jedi way, compassion is _ , responded Yoda. ... _ But his way, being a fool is.  _

~ _ We must try to teach him _ , said Qui-Gon.  _ It is our duty.  _

_ ~And if he will not learn _ ? 

~ _ Teach him humility, a few centuries with that flock of sea birds might _ , said Yoda wickedly. The Masters nodded, resolved. 

“You have not earned your redemption,” said Windu gravely. “But we can help you find your way.” 

* * *

Yoda, Qui-Gon, and Windu were participating in their new favorite pastime: scolding Ben Solo for his heinous and downright idiotic actions. Anakin was still wildly uncomfortable with having him around, and frankly, it seemed like the feeling was mutual. They had basically avoided each other since Ben’s unexpected arrival, but this incident was just funny enough that he decided to watch.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan tapped Anakin on the shoulder. “Come over here, there’s something you need to see.”

“I’ll be right back,” Anakin said to the others as he followed Obi-Wan.

They peered through the veil to see Rey on Tatooine.

“Look,” Obi-Wan said, pointing to Rey, who was burying Anakin’s lightsaber in the sand.

Anakin let out a tiny, horrified sound. “Why?”

They then saw that Luke and Leia were down there watching as she declared she had taken the last name of “Skywalker.” 

When Luke and Leia returned to the afterlife, Leia immediately joined Yoda et al. in chewing out her son. Luke, however, joined Obi-Wan and Anakin.

“Interesting choice of a name,” Obi-Wan said, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Honestly,” Luke replied, “if she wants it, she can take it. She’s probably done more good for the galaxy than either of us ever could have,” he gestured towards Anakin.

“I agree,” Anakin began, “and I’ve decided I’m finally going to go down there and meet her.” With that, he blinked into the physical realm.

* * *

Rey stared out at the horizon with BB-8, soaking in the scenery (or lack thereof), when she turned around to see the spirit of Anakin Skywalker sheepishly standing off in the distance.

“Hello?” Rey shouted, as she dashed closer to investigate.

Anakin stepped forward, looking slightly away from her. “Hi, Rey.”

“I heard your voice. You’re…” She trailed off as she realized who this wavy haired man actually was. 

“I’m Anakin,” he said, looking up at her.

“I don’t believe it.”

“I’m sorry if I’m not the person you wanted to see right now.”

“ _ No _ , it’s not that,” Rey said, defensively, “I just didn’t expect you to look so… my age.” 

Anakin smiled at her. “I get that a lot… Um, anyway… I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for defeating Palpatine, and thank you for undoing the damage that my family and I-- well, mostly I -- did to the galaxy, and I want you to know that every Jedi is so proud of you.”

Rey was on the verge of tears. “I couldn’t have done it without all of your help.”

“Any time. I mean it. I know I will never be able to repay you for all you’ve done, but the least I can do is try to help out where I can.”

“This is a weird question, but can I give you a hug?” Rey asked as a tear rolled down her cheek.

“I don’t actually know the answer to that. I’ve picked up objects before like this, but I can’t say I’ve ever tried hugging someone,” he laughed, “but if it’s possible, sure.”

Rey proceeded to successfully tackle-hug him, nearly knocking his weightless form to the ground. 

“Thank you,” she said to him as she let him go.

“What are you going to do now?” 

“I don’t know yet.” Unsure of what to say, but wanting to maintain the conversation, she impulsively asked him “what about you?”

“Well, I’m probably going to go get drunk with some other ghosts and watch Leia yell at Ben for a while,” he casually answered.

“What?”

“Being dead is a lot more fun than you’d think.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rey said through stifled laughter.

“You take care, Rey,” he said, patting her on the shoulder.

“You too.”

“Thank you,” Anakin grinned at her and then flickered out of existence.

* * *

When he returned to the netherworld of the Force, everything had gone to hell in a handbasket. Luke was nowhere to be seen and Windu, Yoda, and Qui-Gon were cheering on Leia in her verbal smack-down of her son.

“You know what? That’s it. You’re grounded!” Leia shouted at Ben.

“Mom, I’m literally an adult!” He shouted back.

“Then start acting like one!”

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan stood right where he was when Anakin left. “It seemed like your conversation with Rey went well.”

“Obi-Wan?”

“Yes, Anakin?”

“Can we adopt her?” he asked, endearingly.

Obi-Wan put a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “I think we already have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the "final" chapter of this piece, but stick around for the epilogue, which will be a tale of two wildly contrasting legal procedures


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The authors hop in their clown car one last time for retribution, celebration, and, of course, inebriation.

The courtroom was no beauty. On the New Republic worlds, the Palaces of Justice had been built like cathedrals, all windows and soaring ceilings. Those worlds were destroyed now, and the stained glass that had once etched out scenes of the Rebellion’s triumph for all who came before the law were space dust. 

Here, in the makeshift capital on Coruscant, the air inside the old court buildings hung heavy from years of disuse. The courts of the Old Republic had been transformed into bureaucratic centers. They’d had to relocate at least five hundred typists, but it had to be done. 

Coruscant felt _right_ , somehow, in a way those New Republic palaces wouldn’t have. Here, history’s scars dug deep -- in the concrete footprint where the Jedi Temple had once stood, in the haunted silence that hung over the old Senate building. _History leaves wounds_ , Coruscant silently reminded its people. _And sometimes a wound has to be cauterized if it’s ever going to heal._

Which was why they were gathered here. Veterans of the Resistance, hardened by war and hard living, loss heavy in eyes and scars and set jaws. The witnesses, mostly First Order middle-brass who lowered their heads and didn’t look at anyone, barely reacting as bystanders stared daggers and spat at their feet. The judge, as patient and unyielding as the old walls. And, between two armed guards, the accused. Armitage Hux. 

In the back, a row sat empty. Or at least it looked empty -- in actuality, five ghosts reposed there, shoulder-to-shoulder. Yoda, wearing two separate monocles, observed the proceedings while eating a ghost joint whole. 

“Again,” said Obi-Wan, “I’m pretty sure this isn’t how you’re supposed to consume that.” 

“Justice, hmmm!” said Yoda, not really paying attention. 

It wasn’t as if it was a show trial: the testimony was legitimate, and the lawyers for the defense were trying to do their jobs. The evidence, however, spoke for itself. Armitage Hux had killed, maimed, destroyed an entire system. And for what? Despite the best efforts of his defense lawyers, it was clear that he hadn’t done his many, many evil deeds under any form of mind control, despite Snoke’s involvement. He’d believed in what he was doing; every murder had been done with a clear mind and a sense of purpose. 

“All of this,” concluded the prosecution, “to cultivate personal power. To build personal influence. To be feared because he could not be loved.” 

Next to Windu, Ben visibly flinched. 

“Oh, come on,” said Windu, rolling his eyes. 

“You, that should be down there,” grumbled Yoda. If it had been possible, Ben would have paled. 

“Take it easy, Master Yoda,” Qui-Gon gently cautioned. 

Luckily for the ghosts, nobody else could hear them speaking at full volume in the otherwise silent courtroom. Although they had chosen to be present, they didn’t want their sudden appearance to cause a scene (especially because Ben was better known to everyone in the room as the notorious galactic warlord who’d been Hux’s accomplice _and boss_ ), so they decided it was best to stay invisible. 

“The punishment should fit the crime,” said the judge after a moment’s pause. “To kill Armitage Hux would be to continue his cycle of violence. Instead, we must execute only those ambitions which drove him to his crimes. Power. Influence. An assumption of grim righteousness beyond any doubt, of personal superiority beyond any contest.” 

The judge studied Hux. It was impossible to tell whether the former general was repentant as he stared back, motionless. 

“For the charge of war crimes, which I believe we can all agree is justly levied, and for the additional crime of attempting to evade prosecution by faking his own death, the courts of the New Republic hereby rule that the former general Armitage Hux shall live out the remainder of his life in exile on the Outer Rim world of Basteel. There he shall exist in isolation, powerless and stranded; his name unknown, his ambition unsatisfied until the day of his demise.” 

The ghosts watched as the bailiffs ushered a wan-looking Hux from the room. 

“About right, that seems,” said Yoda, chomping down on his joint. 

***

Out behind the base on Ajan Kloss, surrounded by lush foliage, were rows and rows of chairs filled with members of the Resistance. Now that the war was over and there was some semblance of normalcy in the galaxy, Finn and Poe were finally able to have their wedding. They stood under an arch adorned with blue and yellow flowers native to the planet as one of the Resistance pilots (who, amazingly, was ordained) performed the ceremony. Finn wore a midnight blue suit with a light gold cravat. To compliment his attire, Poe wore a light gold suit with a midnight blue cravat -- made out of the same fabric and everything. They were both holding bouquets that matched the arch, and they were glowing with joy. 

Picking who would be whose wedding attendants was simultaneously easy and difficult because they had the same friends, so they let everyone pick based on which color they wanted to wear. Except, however, Finn asked Rey to be his best woman, who didn’t think twice before agreeing to it. From a distance, she appeared to be wearing a slim, backless, floor-length dress in the same color as Finn and his other attendants, but every so often she would shift around and it became evident that her “dress” was actually a jumpsuit. (She refused to wear something she couldn’t easily fight in if need be.) It had always been the plan for Leia to be Poe’s best woman. When she passed away, it seemed like no one could fill the void. Poe was going to have BB-8 take her place, but it wasn’t the same. However, after figuring out how to contact the spirits of the Jedi, Rey was able to get all the wedding info to Leia so that her translucent figure could be by Poe’s side. (BB-8 was still part of the wedding party, though).

“I now pronounce you married!” The officiant said with gusto. 

Finn and Poe shared a small tender kiss. They smiled at each other, on the verge of tears, and then Poe grabbed and dipped Finn, kissing him again. Everyone in attendance, including the droids, erupted in applause, with the loudest hooting and hollering coming from the group of the dead in the back. Rey made a point of putting all the ghosts on the guest list -- well, everyone except Ben Solo. She made a point of making sure he was _not_ on the guest list.

***

The reception took place in a hangar they had cleared out. String lights and dark blue fabric were draped from the ceiling like a massive canopy bed. Leia sat with the happy couple and the rest of the wedding party as the members of the living ate, but the rest of the ghosts sat at a table in the corner. There was nothing there for them to eat, so they decided they might as well turn this wedding into a BYOB event. Luke and Yoda sat next to each other, realizing that they were, in fact, _those people_ who got emotional at weddings, and that Ghost Prosecco did not help. Obi-Wan and Windu were having a somewhat comprehensible conversation about fruit as Windu popped open the table’s second bottle. Meanwhile, Anakin grinned vacantly off into the distance. Little did the others know that he was already three shots of Ghost Vodka in before they had even opened the first bottle. As the party was getting ready to make their toasts Windu realized he did not know where Qui-Gon was, which was especially concerning because, prior to the wedding, Qui-Gon had eaten one of his reality-shattering cookies. Windu looked around, found his friend staring into the punch bowl, and got up to retrieve him.

“Master Qui-Gon,” he started, “care to join us?”

Qui-Gon stared into his warped reflection in the bowl. “I have no idea how big my face is…”

“Excuse me?”

“I can tell how big the rest of my features are relative to my surroundings because I can see them,” he examined his ghostly hands, “but I can only ever see my face in a reflection, which is from a distance. You know how ships are larger than you expect them to be because you’re accustomed to seeing them flying from a distance? It’s the same thing, you know?” He leaned closer to the punch, “I think my face is a certain size, but it’s bigger, and I will never be able to know just how big it is.” 

This statement chilled Windu to the core and momentarily made him question everything he knew before he linked arms with Qui-Gon to drag him away from the punch bowl. “Come on, you’re going to join us before the speeches start.” 

“Oh, yes, that’s going to be lovely,” Qui-Gon said, snapping back into reality after taking a few steps away and no longer being ensnared by his own reflection.

***

The ghosts knew the speeches were going to be a wild ride, but nothing could have prepared them for the next twenty minutes of their afterlives. Rey had only had one drink, but she was completely off her shit. She started her speech by saying the first thing she did when she met Finn was try to beat him up due to a miscommunication, then proceeded to give an unhinged lecture about how great he was. On the other hand, when it was time for Leia to give her speech, she pulled out a piece of paper containing a list of embarrassing stories about Poe and read them all. 

Once the grooms had been thoroughly humiliated, it was time for the first dance. It was clear that Poe knew how to dance, but Finn had no idea what he was doing and kept stepping on Poe’s toes. Nonetheless, it was very heartwarming, but the moment it was over, they went back to the sidelines. That’s when all hell broke loose. Yoda scrambled onto the dance floor and started breaking it down next to R2-D2, who was happily beeping and shifting back and forth. Anakin followed Yoda, but before he could get out there, he saw Rey standing with the newlyweds across the room. She chaotically waved, almost smacking Poe in the face, and started running towards Anakin. Having miscalculated her velocity, and barely able to control her limbs, she came within inches of running into him (or possibly just phasing through him).

"Isn't this exciting?!" She half-yelled at him.

"You know? It is," he said, amused at her being a happy drunk. "How are you doing, Rey?"

"I'm doing great. How are you?!"

He let out a small laugh. "I'm actually having a really good time right now."

"That's great!" She then turned to Finn and Poe, who were thanking all the people flooding them with congratulations. "Look who's here!" She shouted at them.

Finn and Poe took that as their cue to break away from everyone bombarding them. 

"Hey, congrats," Anakin said to them.

"Thanks, and good to see you, man," Poe replied.

"Yeah, we're glad you could make it!" Finn added.

"Of course. I should probably let you get back to what you're doing," Anakin said.

"No -- _no,_ " Poe replied, very much not wanting to go back to what he was doing, "we're glad to see you. How have things been--"

"Why are you all talking with my dad?" Leia shouted confusedly from across the room. She walked over and gave all of them judgemental looks.

"What? Oh, we're just catching up," Finn replied.

"You're _what?_ You all know each other?"

"Yeah, he's great!" Rey said.

"We all hang out every few weeks or so," Poe added.

Leia was flabbergasted. "Do you know how many people he's killed?" 

Leia had mostly forgiven Anakin, but she knew she would never stop giving him a hard time. He just winced at her; he knew she was right. The others looked at each other.

"Eh, it's all good," Finn replied.

"He's actually really fun," Poe said simultaneously.

"We've all killed people," Rey blurted out, and then immediately realized how bad it sounded.

Everyone looked at Rey.

"Well, alright," Leia said skeptically before going off to find her brother.

"Look at Master Yoda!" Rey gasped. She pointed to where he was still tearing it up on the floor. "He's so good!" 

With that, she dashed off to join him, with Anakin close behind to keep an eye on her.

***

“Come on, it’s time to cut the cake!” yelled Jessika, who was dressed in a sleek suit with a navy-and-gold boutonniere. It was definitely the right time for a distraction, since Yoda’s dancing was starting to become downright dangerous. 

“Let’s go!” yelled Rey a little sloppily, grabbing Finn and Poe by the wrists. She stopped just short of the table which held their five-tiered cake, baked in celebration of both the newlyweds’ love and the recent end of flour and sugar rationing. 

“Which of you two wants to do the honors?” asked Jessika, giving her girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. 

“Finn should do it…” said Rey, “...with this!” From what must’ve been a thigh holster, she procured her lightsaber.

“Are you sure?” asked Finn. “I know Jedi are pretty serious about this kind of thing.” He threw a nervous glance at the ghosts. 

“GO FOR IT!” yelled Qui-Gon, knocking back a shot of what seemed to be a colorful, fruity gelatin substance. The ghosts burst into cheers, and everyone in the room yelled their approval. 

Finally convinced, Finn activated the weapon and cut out a perfect, slightly singed triangle of cake. 

“My hero,” said Poe, completely earnestly, to a backdrop of loud ‘aw’s and general merriment. 

***

A loud series of beeps issued over the general cacophony. 

“What’s that, BB-8?” Poe yelled over the sonic wall of music and shouting. “Oh-- you’re right! We almost forgot.” 

“What’s up?” asked Finn, appearing by his side whilst somehow carrying three separate flutes of sparkling wine. 

“We need to get everyone together to capture the moment.” 

**“Hey, everyone!”** shouted Rey, suddenly appearing from behind them. Her voice seemed somehow bass-boosted -- perhaps something to do with her Force abilities. **“Get in here! We’ve got to take a holograph!”**

BB-8 issued another several beeps. “He says R2 can take holographs,” Poe translated. From several feet away, R2-D2 beeped affirmatively. He and C-3PO, who was currently engaged in a form of dance that could only truly be described as The Robot, were wearing matching bow ties in deep blue with thin gold stripes. 

After a great deal of yelling, hand gestures, and R2 “accidentally” rolling into people’s knees, the party was finally posed for a huge group holograph. 

“You’re standing in front of me, Anakin,” said Obi-Wan. 

“Oh, you love it,” said Anakin, extremely inebriated. “You _always_ loved it.” 

“You standing in front of me in holographs?” 

“No, just you…” 

It was then that the two of them realized that everyone around them had gone completely silent as they grinned for the holograph. Several pairs of eyes swiveled toward the two of them. They were both swaying more than a little. 

“Okay, we’re dead and you want answers,” said Obi-Wan loudly, slurring slightly. “I can _feel_ it. We did _it_ , okay? Back during the Clone Wars we, you know… _did_ _it_!!” He paused for a second, then mumbled, “Oh, I am going to regret this tomorrow, aren’t I?” 

“Did wha-- oh...oh NO,” said Luke. He rubbed his ghostly eyes as if trying to remove any traces of the image Obi-Wan’s proclamation had planted in his mind. 

“Big surprise,” muttered Windu. 

“You didn’t know? We were always afraid that you did…” said Anakin, completely missing Windu’s sarcasm. 

Yoda and Windu stared at each other, the Archives Incident playing out in high resolution in both of their minds. 

“So does that mean you’re still…” asked C-3PO, trailing off as his base programming apparently overrode whatever nosiness bug he’d picked up over the years. 

“No!” Anakin yelled. 

“Oh, no. Definitely not,” said Obi-Wan, interrupting him. 

“Totally not,” Anakin continued. 

“It was a different time,” explained Obi-Wan. 

“We’ve really moved past it,” emphasized Anakin simultaneously. 

“No,” added Obi-Wan, seemingly for the sake of one-upping his former lover. 

“Yeah. Plus, look at how old he looks,” said Anakin, not to be outdone. 

“Hey!” 

“Okay, we get it!” yelled Leia, clearly three seconds away from putting her hands over her ears to avoid ever having to think about the entire debacle again. “Just...smile for the imager, would you?” 

R2 took a series of holographs in an attempt to have at least one decent one. The party all huddled around him to see how they turned out. The first one was...well, it was a keeper, but not for the right reasons. Finn and Poe looked exquisite -- they were smilingly at each other, beaming with love and joy. Meanwhile, Rey was holding Jessika around the waist, grinning at her like an idiot, trying not to fall over. And in the background were the ghosts looking like they were collectively going through all five stages of grief at once. 

Luckily, the very last holograph turned out really well. Everyone was smiling, everyone looked reasonably sober, and no one looked like they needed immediate therapy. 

“I love you so much,” Finn said to Poe.

“I love you too.”

They then looked around at their friends -- their family, really -- and smiled at them. “And we love all of you as well,” added Finn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! We hope you had as much fun reading this as we did putting it together :D

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is only going to get more unhinged as it goes, so buckle up lol


End file.
